


Medallion

by ArvenaPeredhel



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Every woman is a lesbian at heart, Gen, High Fantasy, I was thirteen and closeted, Magic, Torture, anime influences, it's only subtext because I thought I was straight, lesbian subtext, no really Dreya constantly calls Anshi her sister, she is Lying they're Gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 93,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27482215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArvenaPeredhel/pseuds/ArvenaPeredhel
Summary: Posted in honor of cracking 2.4k Tumblr followers. This is the novel I wrote when I was twelve, first draft finished at thirteen. I continued revisions until my freshman year of college, working continuously on the same draft; this writing ranges as a result from nine to fourteen years old. I'm rather embarrassed by it, but people wanted to see it, so here you go! It's a high fantasy anime pastiche that is very very dumb.
Relationships: Andreya Orifax/Anshi Hitaro, Aora Kahn/Valeria (Implied), Cesla Kahn | Kespa/Krysty Anaril, Saela Keir/Tamox
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize profusely for the lack of vowels in my fake language. Twelve year old me was a dumbass.

Mayara Orifax wiped her eyes. The sweat that dripped into them had almost blinded her, but only now could she take a brief respite to clear her vision. After all, just moments earlier she had been fighting for her life. Standing up, she picked her way through the grey lumps that had once been mindless Mrls in the armies of Kespa. It had been war for so long, war for vengeance, death, and peace. The only reason she was here, not back in Tralnrt, was because of a rumor…

…because Mayara Orifax was absolutely tired of war.

“Mayara! Here!” 

It was Darys, her spouse. He had been searching through the Mrls some distance off…could he really have found it? Joy flooded Mayara’s heart and she ran to him. He offered her a black metal casket, and as she took it she could feel the power hidden in its depths.

“You found it,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. It was over. “Now, the war can end. Our child can grow up in peace.” 

The elf-king looked at his wife, her luminous brown eyes shining.

“Yes.” he replied softly, his mind filling with thoughts of a life without war. 

Suddenly, Mayara tensed. She felt something cold, utterly evil…and familiar. 

“Hello, Mayara.”

The queen didn’t have to look to know who it was. 

“Kespa.” she whispered, horrified that the renegade had found them. 

“Of course.” her visitor answered. “I had hoped the rumors might convince you to reveal yourselves again, but I never thought you would come alone! I expected more, especially from Darys.” A smile blossomed on her lips. “Now, I’ve come for what’s mine.” 

Mayara drew her sword.  _ There’s no way in the flames she’s stealing it again. _

“Try and take it!” she growled.

Kespa laughed mirthlessly. “Now, Mayara,” she said, turning to focus the power of her eyes on the contents of her enemy’s arms. “You are going to regret opposing me.” 

The usurper wrenched her hand up, an invisible force pulling the casket toward her waiting arms.

“Oh… no… you… DON’T!” Mayara cried, holding on for dear life as she was dragged along with the prized bundle.

Kespa grinned, turning her force downwards and slamming the elven-queen into the ground with the power she’d gained. Stunned, Mayara gasped for air and relinquished her grip, watching in horror as her adversary grabbed the casket.

A quick motion of the wrist, and the Medallion was in Kespa’s fingers once more.

Mayara closed her eyes, stifling the urge to sob.  _ It’s not fair. This happened  _ again.  _ What if she finds out about-  _ no, don’t think about her.  _ Dreya’s not a part of this.  _

Suddenly, she saw him. 

Darys, ignored by Kespa, had crept around her and was preparing to attack once again. 

“Darys. NO!” Mayara screamed. “Don’t-!”

Kespa’s eyebrow shot up. “Don’t…  _ what?” _

To the queen’s horror, as Darys rushed for her Kespa turned and snapped out with her hand as if to strike him. A stream of violet flame shot out and slammed into the elf-lord from the Medallion clasped firmly in her palm.

“DARYS!” Mayara screamed as her husband slumped to the ground, dead. A blind rage took her then, and she sprang to her feet.

“You…  _ monster… _ ” the queen growled. 

“So I’m a monster now?” Kespa laughed. “No matter. I’ve been called worse names then  _ that _ , Mayara. Surely you can do better?”

“I find,” Mayara said, “that steel speaks louder than words.” Her blade was up and ready, her gaze cool and focused.

“Really?” the rebel asked. “Let’s see how strident your voice is, then.”

A flick of the wrist and Kespa’s sword was in her hand. 

“Shall we do this?” she said.

“Only if you play fair.” Mayara replied. “No outside help.”

“Oh, Mayara, you insult me.” Kespa simpered. “I’d  _ never  _ dream of cheating. It’s so…  _ common _ .”

“Really.” the queen said. “Let’s see how you do on your own.”

She darted forward, and the battle began.

Mayara soon came to one decision: whatever she was, Kespa was certainly not incompetent. At least, not in regard to a sword.

“I... used to… dream of killing you.” she said, leaping back to avoid getting her head cut off.

Kespa laughed. “Killing me?” she asked. “Not a chance, Mayara.”

“Don’t be so sure.” her opponent answered. “Maybe I’ll get the upper hand.”

Kespa threw her head back and laughed. “My dear,” she said, closing her eyes, “I think not.” 

The power of the Medallion flowed through the murderer’s thin blade, and Mayara’s sword shattered under the strain. 

“You…” Mayara murmured, stumbling back as the energy surged through her, “…you’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

Kespa shook her head, that interminable  _ smile _ still smeared across her face.

“I’m not going to kill you.” she said, reaching out with her hand. “Not yet, anyway.”

The Medallion flashed, there was a crack like thunder – 

and Mayara was gone.

Kespa closed her eyes briefly, ignoring the body of Darys some twenty feet away. A brief command to the Medallion was all that was necessary to slip back to her fortress, ready to celebrate her complete and utter victory.

_ At long last, the Medallion is  _ MINE.

* * *

“NO!” Andreya screamed, her eyes flying open as she shot into a sitting position. Quilts tumbled from her slim frame as she realized that the nightmare was only a dream. The elf-queen closed her eyes to blink away tears and fell with a sigh back onto the pillows and mattress. Shortly after, the knock came. 

“Lady Andreya!”

The girl fell back onto the bed and tried to return to sleep. 

The knocking became more persistent. 

“Are you all right?” the voice called. “Are you ill?”

Dreya sighed.  _ No more sleep tonight… _

“Come in, Melane.” the girl answered as her guardian opened the door, holding a candle. 

“Lady Andreya?” The middle-aged elf stepped into the room. “What’s wrong?” she asked, worry in her eyes. Dreya sighed at the use of her real name and shoved herself up on her elbows. 

“Mel, how many times have I told you that Lady Andreya is far too formal? I would prefer Dreya, but Lady Dreya will suffice if necessary, I suppose.” 

“All right, but at least tell me what is troubling you.”

“It was only a dream. Nothing more.” she answered, standing up and walking over to her window.

“A dream? Was it a Foresight?” Melane continued to push after Dreya was done with the subject, though Dreya had to admit that she had good reason to do so. Dreya’s mother, the Lady Mayara Orifax, had been extremely gifted in the art of seeing things to come, and had averted many disasters because of it.  _ Even though she couldn’t see her death. _

“No,” Dreya answered, sure that it wasn’t. Her mother had told her exactly what a Foresight felt like. “I think it was a memory.” Melane’s head nodded solemnly, her auburn hair gleaming like some golden halo in the faint light of her candle. 

“I thought so. Your parents?” 

“Yes.” Dreya’s voice took on an edge, keen and cold, hard beyond belief. “I saw them  _ die _ , Mel.” Melane’s gold eyes softened. After all, she had been appointed guardian of Dreya after her parents were lost in the ending of the war.

“I’m sorry.” she said. “The Myrl Wars were a terrible tragedy. Many lives were lost.” Dreya stiffened as if she had been struck by an invisible hand. 

“You didn’t say it, Melane, but my dreams told me the truth. My parents were killed by Kespa.” There was a fire in Dreya’s teal eyes now, a fire that so often was smothered by life. “Not just because of her. She slaughtered them like animals.” 

Melane sighed, crossing over to Dreya, who turned away as the adult moved closer. An awkward silence held for a few moments, and then the caregiver broke it. 

“We tried to stop you from knowing.” she said. “We didn’t want you to feel that Kespa did you any more harm. You might have lost your life in the quest for revenge. After she killed your grandmother we -” 

“Stop there.” Dreya cut her off angrily. “I now know the full extent of Kespa’s treachery, and I will be avenged.” 

Melane placed a condescending hand on Dreya’s shoulder. She pulled away, turning her head to glare at her guardian. 

“I am not a child, Melane!” she cried. “I can be told the truth! Not only did she kill my father, she  _ kidnapped  _ my  _ mother,  _ who died in agony after enduring Flames-know-what! What possessed you to hide this from me?”

Melane didn’t reply, and silence descended once more upon the room. No one tried to break it again. Dreya sighed and put her elbows on the window ledge, looking out the open space at the dark city below her, a single candle acting as her only guiding light. 

“So dark… Tralnrt is always dark now.” 

“And what else could it be?” Melane answered. The city of Tralnrt was safe from Kespa only because it was far beneath the earth’s surface. “Tralnrt is our last protection.” 

Dreya turned back to her guardian. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears in the light of the candle. 

“We’ve forgotten,” she said bitterly, “what the sun looks like. We’ve forgotten who we are. Our underground refuge has become a home for the last of a great civilization.” 

“This home is where we may be safe. Underground, the Myrl cannot find us. Kespa cannot hurt you!”

“Or I her.” Dreya muttered, turning and using her candle to light a lamp on the far wall. 

“I venture above ground.” she told Melane matter-of-factly, with an air of regal confidence edging each word. 

“That is unwise, Dreya. There is nothing for you there.” The words were useless. Dreya had already pulled an emerald traveling dress from her pile of clothes. The Star of Tralnrt flashed silver on its front, glimmering in the flickering lamplight. 

“Valeria will protest again.” Melane continued. 

“She won’t stop me.” Dreya absentmindedly replied, grabbing her sword and buckling its scabbard around her waist. A distant cousin of the royal family, it was Valeria who would have been ruling Tralnrt if not for Dreya. As such, she was bitter and spiteful, and she went to great lengths to make her presence known, complaining about everything the current ruler did or said. Even more infuriating was the fact that she might have ruled as regent until her cousin came of age, but the people had demanded a ruler from the Orifax line.

“She wields great influence in court.”

“And so do I- actually, I run the thing, if you remember.”

“Dreya, just  _ think _ for once!” Melane pleaded. “She’s going to have power some day, and you won’t be able to ignore it!”

Dreya rolled her eyes.

“Valeria can protest all she likes. I  _ will _ venture above today, Mel.” she said, pausing before she swept out the door. “I need to be alone.”


	2. Tamox

Dreya climbed slowly out of the tunnel that led to Tralnrt. Hidden well under a rock, it was the last place that the elves could even begin to live, safe from Kespa and her prying eyes. She covered the entrance, sat down on the rock, and closed her eyes. Even the sunlight felt cold when the memory struck. 

_ Kespa _ .

The name sent shivers of fear and cold rage spiraling down her back. Dreya had not known the woman, but there was good reason to hate her.

Kespa, formerly Cesla Kahn, had been different, always estranged. Something inside of her, something silent, projected a clear signal -  _ leave me alone _ . Years of solitude passed, and finally she committed a terrible crime. The details of the affair were hidden, never spoken of. Dreya suspected she had committed murder.

Despite this mystery, it was well known that Kespa was banished from Norigoth, the former capital and a city she later destroyed. Years passed before she suddenly returned, feigning sorrow and then killing Lumine Orifax, Dreya’s grandmother. Lumine had been near the end of her rule – and she was the current keeper of the Medallion, an object of a magical nature offering nearly omnipotent power to whoever used it. 

Tempted by that promise, Kespa stole the Medallion after slaying Lumine. Its true caretakers, the Orifax family line, had received it to protect the people of the forest and keep the peace. Kespa, though, had harnessed its strength to meet her own demands. First on this list were slaves and servants, preferably those who could work as an army when needed. 

In her search for a labor force, Kespa had kidnapped and altered many Xarn, members of a mortal people who lived deeper in the forest and used its resources for their simple lives. Her prisoners were hideously mutated in body and mind, and were only capable of one real purpose: absolute loyalty to Kespa and Kespa alone.

The trapped Xarn were given the name Myrl, or “Transformed”. They were able to talk and live a semblance of life, but freedom was impossible. Kespa controlled them through the Medallion, removing her influence from those she considered too wounded to fight and letting them die. The Myrl were poor fighters, but there were thousands at Kespa’s beck and call, waiting in the fortress that the Medallion had crafted for her.

The elves, taken by surprise, had been infuriated by the Medallion’s theft and Lumine’s murder. Many regarded it as their fault – after all, they did create the magical orb. But all were agreed – in order to restore peace, a war was needed. 

Led by Lumine’s daughter and son-in-law, Mayara and Darys Orifax, they had marched against the Myrl and declared that Kespa would die for what she did. Dreya was born just as the war started, and she had grown up among archers, swordsmen, and constant danger. 

_ Not the kind of childhood my parents wanted for me _ , she thought with a small smile. Mayara had wanted a safe haven for her child, but Dreya had grown up a true warrior. Any chance she’d had for a normal childhood faded as her parents died - the child had been expected to take the throne in their stead and eventually regain the Medallion, defeating Kespa in the process. 

_ I can’t believe I  _ saw _ them die…  _ Dreya thought, her head sinking downward.  _ I was there. I  _ saw  _ them.  _ True, Mayara had been captured by Kespa. That had been a shock to the young queen, so used to hearing that both her father and mother were killed in single combat with the usurper. For a moment, she dared hope Mayara might still be alive –  _ no. Better not to dream of it. It was nearly a thousand years ago… she can’t still be alive after that long in the dungeons. _ No. Mayara was dead, surely, and there was nothing left but to carry on without her.  _ To regain the Medallion… it’s something I’ve dreamed of. The trouble is, how do I…? _

Dreya’s trained ears suddenly perked up, suddenly shaken out of memory by a change. There was something amiss in the calm forest. Perhaps the small insects had stopped their calls, or a fox had stirred from its den and silenced the birds. Whatever the reason, it was too quiet. Suddenly, a crashing noise came faintly into hearing range. Dreya tensed, paying close attention, and then gripped her bow and moved off in the direction of the disturbance. There was no doubt - Myrl were near.

After walking a few yards, she quickly took a stance behind a tree. No use revealing herself before she could even see her opponent. When the Myrl did crash into view, Dreya tensed and readied herself for a fight. The next few minutes should be relatively simple. She knew her opponent well.

Myrl were, as a rule, shorter then she was, their heads reaching about to her shoulder. They had grey skin, and normally wore grey armor of about the same shade. A few greasy black strands of hair clung to their scalp, with two supersensitive felanoid ears poking up from the sorry mess. 

The noise of their approach grew louder, and finally Dreya peered out from behind the tree to see firsthand what she was dealing with.

Her shock nearly knocked her backward.

A figure ran through the trees some distance from her hiding place, pursued by four Myrl. He was stumbling and flailing awkwardly, obviously unfamiliar with the terrain he was attempting to escape through. Dreya gasped as he tripped, but he somehow scrambled back to his feet and continued his haphazard flight.

_ I should do something. I should help him.  _

_ No! Have you lost your mind? He could be a spy! _

She weighed this prospect momentarily, watching as he sprinted through the trees. He’d turned and was now running parallel to her hiding place. 

_ But if he’s not a spy, then am I going to watch him die? _ Can  _ I watch him die? _

_ No. _

Her mind made up, the girl sprang from her hiding place and dashed to face the Myrl. 

Unfortunately, her movements put her directly in the path of the fleeing figure. 

He smashed into her, reeling backwards, and then darted sideways to take shelter behind a boulder.

As she fell backward, Dreya stretched out her left hand to catch herself and flipped up towards the enemy, using her arm as a lever and kicking the nearest Myrl in the chest as she landed.  _ So far, so good. _

She bent to duck a well-aimed blade.  _ They’re getting better – is it because these have been alive so long, or is she directly controlling them? _

The realization sent a thrill of panic through her system.  _ If that’s true… I have to kill them now. _

Dreya drew her sword and went to work. It was almost too easy – slash, cut, parry, block – but she didn’t dare go easy on her opponents.  _ If they know I’m alive, if she knows… _

Her latest parry deflected her enemy’s blade away long enough for her to dispatch it in a smooth lop. As soon as its head tumbled to the ground, the Myrl dissolved into sludge and sloshed to the ground.

Dreya bowed her head for a fraction of a second and stepped over the remains to finish off the last of the patrol. She was used to seeing the enemy shift into oblivion by now – Kespa’s meddling had left them without any means of self support. When they were severely injured or killed, she simply withdrew her influence and let them slide into the raw materials they’d become under her ministrations. 

She hadn’t wanted anyone to save her prisoners.

The battle was over in a few more moments. The Myrl had fought as best they could, but ultimately it came down to Dreya’s adaptability and free thinking. As soon as she was clear, she turned her attention to the person responsible for her fight.

He was only a couple of inches shorter then her, with skin as pale as her own. His hair was pure white, cut shorter than what most elven men wore, but not as short as the close-cropped style of the Xarn. It fell in straggly bangs across his forehead, hanging over his eyebrows to shadow his eyes. Two ears that resembled what might have been seen on a Myrl poked up out of the mess of hair, snowy-white on the outside yet light within, streaked with faint red lines where blood vessels ran beneath the skin. His hazel eyes were wide and vacant, mindless almost, yet somehow quivering with inner fire.

“Who  _ are _ you?” Dreya asked breathlessly, sitting on the ground facing the thing, her shoulders heaving as she tried to catch her breath. 

“I, um, well…my name is Tamox.” he answered in an unsteady voice, sitting also. Dreya looked him over cautiously. 

“Are you hurt?” she asked. “Were those Myrl chasing you? Does this have something to do with-?” Realizing what she might say, she stopped abruptly. Tamox couldn’t be trusted, even if the Myrl had been pursuing him. 

“I can assume you don’t just wander the woods looking for Myrl to slaughter. You must have some kind of home. Take me there and I’ll tell my story on the way.” Tamox said, his simple statement making it clear he didn’t know about the suspicious nature of the current times.

_ Or doesn’t care. _ Dreya thought. “I really don’t think that-!” 

“Those Myrl wanted to kill me.” Tamox interrupted. “If you don’t help me, I’ll be dead in a few hours, what with Kespa searching for me.” 

Dreya’s eyes widened.

“Searching for you?”

Tamox nodded. “She threw me out of her fortress. I thought she’d just let me go – I don’t like her, but I’m not going to do anything to her without cause – but I guess I was wrong.”

The girl crossed her arms. “And why wouldn’t you do anything to her? She’s a monster!”

“I know,” Tamox said, “but she’s too powerful. There’s nothing I can do against her.”

“Do you want to?” Dreya asked. “If you could fight her, would you?”

“Fight?” Tamox answered nervously. “I… I don’t really want to fight anyone.”

The queen frowned.  _ I can’t just leave him here. But I’m not going to kill him. So what can I  _ do  _ with him? _

“I might be able to give you information though.” Tamox continued. “I did spend a lot of time in Kespa’s fortress.”

Dreya dropped her train of thought and turned to face the fugitive.  _ If he can help us, is it worth it? Of course it’s worth it! Flames, Mel’s going to murder me. _

“Fine.” she said, beckoning to Tamox and moving to retrace her steps. “Come with me.”

“Where?” he asked, springing to his feet and following.

“To Tralnrt.” she said with a half-smile. “You’ve convinced me to help you.”


	3. "Lady" Dreya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize again, this time for my adolescent obsession with faux-feminist rebellious princesses.

Dreya moved forward as silently as a forest breeze. She prided herself on her stealth, which had saved her many times in her escapes from court duties. The air was crisp in the still-new morning light, with the smell of dew and dying leaves lightening her mood by the second.  _ On a morning like this, _ she realized,  _ my life almost seems happy. _

CRUNCH.

The girl felt her good mood evaporate as a loud noise ground its way through her ears. She looked over her shoulder to see Tamox attempting to follow her lead and failing miserably. 

“Can you  _ please _ …  _ be more quiet _ ?” she growled through gritted teeth.

Tamox froze. “W-what do you mean? I’m being as quiet as I can.”

Dreya bit her lip, hard. The temptation to scream at her companion was nearly insatiable, yet the threat of more Myrl kept her from raising her voice.

“If…  _ you _ … are being  _ quiet… _ ” she snarled, “then a  _ broadsword  _ is a  _ delicate tool. _ ”

Tamox’s face fell as he understood her meaning. 

“Oh.” he answered. “I – I’ll try to be quieter.”

“Good.” Dreya said curtly, turning on her heel and moving forward. She’d only met Tamox a few hundred meters from the entrance to Tralnrt, but she took a roundabout way to throw off any pursuit. 

“Listen… Tamox, right?”

“Yes.”

“When we get to Tralnrt, you’ll have to tell the absolute truth about what you’ve seen. Is that clear?”

“What would happen if I didn’t?”

Dreya looked over her shoulder grimly. “We’d have to kill you.” she replied. “Now stay close. We’re almost there.” The trees were thick as ever in front of her, but the tiny clearing was visible from where she stood.

“ _ Don’t _ come out until I say.” she said. “If there’s an ambush, we don’t need you killed.”

Tamox nodded.

Dreya slowly stepped into the open, her eyes darting around in circles. No bent branches, no new tracks, no signs of life of any kind. When she was satisfied that the glade was safe, she beckoned to the trees she’d left behind. 

“You can come out now.” she called. Tamox stepped into the glade, looking around. 

“Where are we going?” he asked incredulously. “This place doesn’t look like a city, didn’t you say you lived in a city?”

“Underground.” 

Dreya pulled the large, table-like rock away from its place. As she did, a dark tunnel became visible. A few torches burned near the top and at intervals along the shaft. A ladder stretched downwards, finally melting into the darkness before the bottom was visible.

Tamox’s face paled. His mouth slipped open, and he began to shiver.

“What?” Dreya asked. “What’s wrong now?”

“I… I…” Tamox stammered. “I…”

“You what?”

“I’mafraidofheights.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“I – I’m a-afraid. Of heights.”

Dreya cursed under her breath. 

“I c-can’t help it!” he cried defensively. “I – I don’t know w-when it started!”

“Look.” Dreya said. “I’d blindfold you, but I doubt that would help. The fact is, there’s no other way down there. We have to lower the injured and dead down by rope, but I don’t have any and besides, you’re too heavy.”

“N-no other way?” Tamox moaned, now curled in a fetal position after having dared look over the edge.

“None.”

“There’s got to be another way. There  _ has _ to be.”

Dreya found her anger disappearing as she beheld her newfound companion miserable on the ground.  _ He’s really torn up about this. _ she realized.  _ There must be something I can do. _ She considered her options, and finally arrived at a conclusion that seemed reasonable.  _ I may be a lot of things, but I’m not heartless. _

_ Even if I don’t trust him. _

“Tamox,” she said gently, “what if we tried something?”

Tamox opened his eyes and looked at her. “Something like…?”

“Try this.” Dreya said. “When you get on the ladder, just look  _ up _ . That way it looks like you’re going  _ away _ from the high part.”

Tamox frowned. “I… I think that will work.” he said. “Let’s try that.”

* * *

“Just keep looking up!” Dreya called to Tamox. She had descended first, so that if her charge slipped and fell she could catch him. “Don’t you  _ dare _ look down!”

Progress towards the subterranean floor was slow, with Tamox daring to take only one step every few moments. 

“It’s working!” he cried. “It’s – aagh!”

“Watch it!” Dreya cried, looking on as Tamox’s foot slipped. Luckily, it caught in the next rung and his descent was halted.

“Take it easy.” she cautioned. “Maybe talking about something would help?”

“S-sure.” Tamox said. “What do you want to hear about?”

“Let’s start with how you got here.”

“At the beginning?”

“Of course, where else would you begin?”

“Alright. But you first.”

“Fine.”

As they climbed, Dreya told Tamox about herself. As she did so, she paid close attention to his demeanor. Not a missed step or a shudder escaped her notice. When nothing about him spoke of treachery, she finally told him about Tralnrt and the Medallion, as well as her role as the one to regain it. Tamox seemed impressed.

“That’s a lot to hold on your shoulders.” he said.

“It’s a burden,” Dreya agreed with a sigh, “but it’s my burden. I can’t – I  _ won’t _ – give it up for anything.”

“But what if you don’t want it?” Tamox asked. “Don’t you get a choice?”

“No.”

“But what if you die? What if you decide you like it here? Who says you have to do this?”

“It’s  _ tradition _ , Tamox! I have to, alright? So just leave it be!” Dreya snapped at him. Her words were hot with emotion – this was a point she’d begged Melane to consider when she was old enough to understand what was expected of her. She’d pleaded to be left alone, and the answer had been ‘no’.

Tamox was silent. Dreya felt a twinge of guilt.  _ I’m the one dragging him down here. I should probably apologize. _

“Listen.” she said. “I’m not heartless, no matter what I may seem like to you. It’s not easy living like this. Maybe… could you tell me about yourself?”

“Are you sure?” Tamox replied carefully.

“Yes.” Dreya answered confidently.

Above her, there was a faint sigh.

“Fine. I… I wasn’t born this way.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Kespa used the Medallion to create me.”

Dreya froze. She’d reached the bottom of the ladder some time before, but now the thought of Tamox joining her made her sick. Closing her eyes, the girl methodically drew her sword.  _ I can’t risk it. _

“Wait!” Tamox’s voice cut through her thoughts and forced her to look at him. He had come to the bottom of the ladder and was approaching her with his hands in the air. 

“Please.” he said. “I’m not evil. I promise you.”

“Prove it.” she growled, her sword pointing at his throat.

“I didn’t choose this.” he explained. “Kespa… she wanted to make the perfect warrior. Myrl aren’t exactly what you’d call ‘ideal soldiers.’”

Dreya smirked. “That was our saving grace in the war.”

Tamox smiled slightly. “She tried hybrid after hybrid, finally combining a Myrl, an elf, and one of the Xarn, and she came up with me.”

“She had Ilviren blood?” Dreya cried. “From where?”

“Ilviren?”

“We aren’t ‘elves’, Tamox. It’s a translation problem. We’re speaking Integra right now, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, Integra was formed by taking elements of Ilvir, our language, and the Xarn language of N’Untra. Sometimes words got a little mangled, and hence ‘Ilver’, the name for one member of our people, became ‘elf’.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Tamox said.

“It wasn’t your fault. But you never answered my question.”

“I don’t know where she got el –  _ Ilviren _ blood.” he said. 

Dreya sighed. “Please continue.”

“After my creation, I was put through conditioning. It was designed to program me to be loyal.”

“She didn’t take direct control of you?”

“She told me that she wanted loyal soldiers, not mindless drones. Something about the efficiency. But there was a problem.”

“Which was?”

“I didn’t want to serve her. She scared me, and all she did when I was around her was bring pain.”

“Obviously.”

“It’s not something I wanted!” he insisted. “I’m not a killer!”

“So what did you do?” Dreya asked. “She’s not one to just let you go.” Her hand was still on the hilt of her sword. Tamox took a step back.

“She said I was a failure. She threw me away. Chased me out of her palace. I was alone and scared, and I had nowhere to go.”

“And you came here.” Dreya sighed.

“No, not at first.” Tamox said. “I ran away, and I didn’t know what to do. I ended up lost in the forest, and I would have died if I hadn’t been found by a Xarn girl.”

“Really?” Dreya asked somewhat skeptically. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true, I promise.” Tamox said. “She gave me food and fresh clothes.” His eyes lit with a slightly unfamiliar emotion as he spoke. “She was kind to me and didn’t try to kill me like the rest of her people did.”

“That sounds like the Xarn.”

“But it’s not fair! I can’t help what I am!”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t change who made you.”

Tamox glared. “Do you want me to finish or not?”

“Please, go ahead.” Dreya said with a wave of her hand.

“I had to leave. She would have gotten in serious trouble otherwise. And when I was trying to find someplace to stay, I ran into a patrol of Myrl.”

“Who then chased you?”

“Right up until you killed them.”

There was a pause as Dreya considered what Tamox had told her. His story seemed believable enough, and frankly having someone like that on their side could prove useful.  _ He doesn’t seem to be lying. And I can kill him easily enough should he prove false. _

“Well, then.” she said. “Let’s get going.”

She turned and vanished into a dim path stretching ahead of them both, lit at intervals by torches. Soon Tamox realized that this was a defense mechanism in its own right – they threaded a convoluted route through what appeared to be an immense labyrinth of caves, and without a guide he would have been hopelessly lost.

“First things first.” Dreya called back to him, turning right at a fork in the pathway. “If you are going to stay here, you need to learn some things.” 

“I already know a little.” Tamox answered. “I can identify plants, and I can build traps to catch animals.” 

“Can you use landmarks to orient yourself?”

“No.”

“Can you track animals and Myrl so they don’t catch you?”

“No.”

“Can you tell me where we are based on the plants around you?”

“You can do that?”

“At least tell me you can  _ fight _ , Tamox. Please.”

Her companion was silent. Dreya groaned.

“That means no, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful.” she muttered, stalking into the gloom.  _ The one time we get someone with actual firsthand knowledge of Kespa’s hidden sanctum, it turns out to be a paranoid experiment-gone-wrong.  _

“Wait!” Tamox cried, his shoes smacking against the stone of the tunnel. “Don’t tell me you can actually  _ do _ all that.”

“What did you expect?” Dreya asked without turning around. “Ilverin have long lives. We should take advantage of them.”

“Aren’t you immortal?” he asked. “I mean, that’s what the Xarn believe.”

“In the strictest sense, I suppose so.” she said. “We age, just extremely slowly. And there are only a few illnesses that can kill us. But at the same time we’re vulnerable to physical wounds, poisons, and starvation.”

“So… not really?”

Dreya took a deep breath.

“Let’s change the subject.” she said. “Tell me about this girl.”

She could tell she’d made Tamox uncomfortable.

“What girl?” he asked after a long pause.

A smile tugged at one corner of Dreya’s mouth as she turned to face him.

“The Xarn girl. Or was I wrong in suspecting you miss her?”

Tamox’s eyes widened and his face flushed a faint red. 

“I… well, I guess I… um… her name is Saela.”

“And?”

Tamox bit his lip and thought for a few moments. Dreya found herself immensely amused at the prospect that she’d caused that much discomfort with a simple question, but after some time she began to regret her actions.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.” she said finally.

“Really?” Tamox asked. 

Dreya nodded.

“Hold it right there.”

A third figure slid into view. He was Ilviren, with dark hair braided down his back. There was a bow in his hands, and his arrow was pointed directly at Tamox. A female archer joined him, but she lowered her weapon immediately when she saw Dreya’s face.

“I apologize, milady.” she said. “We have to be careful.”

Dreya rolled her eyes at the honorific but forced herself to nod to the guards. 

“This is Tamox.” she said. “I saved him from the Myrl, and I’m taking him to see Melane. Tamox, these are Embra and Drylle, two of the guards who maintain our borders.”

Tamox smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you, I’m sure.” the woman said, though her face betrayed her unease at his odd appearance.

Dreya waved the guards off and walked further down the path. “Come on, Tamox. We’re almost there.”

“Wait a minute, Dreya.” he pressed. She stopped and glanced back in his direction. “I – I want to ask you something.”

The two archers had disappeared, leaving them alone. Tamox took a deep breath and then spoke again.

“How long did you fight in the war?”

“What?” the queen asked. “I – why do you care?”

Tamox shrugged. “I just want to know.”

Dreya sighed. “It was almost a thousand years, Tamox.”

His eyes widened.

“You – you fought in a war for  _ one thousand years _ ? But that’s - !”

“Not so very long for the Ilverin. Remember how long we live?” Dreya felt her heart begin to race inside of her. She hated thinking about the war. It brought back too many sour memories. 

“But - !”

“Look at me.” she continued, her voice going hard. “I’ve only just reached my halfage, and I’ve lived two thousand years on this world. I was born a warrior, and then with the deaths of my parents I became queen. I spent five hundred years learning all I had to learn, but it wasn’t nearly enough. To you I may be ancient, but despite all that I’ve done there’s been no time. Not for  _ me. _ ” Tears pricked at the inside of her eyes. She couldn’t – she  _ wouldn’t _ – cry here. Not in front of some incompetent who she’d only just met. Why did his questions bring out so much of her pain?

Tamox realized what he’d done and instantly felt sorry for her.  _ What can I do? She definitely doesn’t seem like the hugging type… maybe I should just leave her alone. _ He thought about it for a moment and decided that was his best option.

“Dreya, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” he murmured. Then, silent for the first time since they’d met, he swept past her and around the next bend.

What he saw before him took his breath away.


	4. Tralnrt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was my issue with vowels? Holy shit.

Tamox stood on the edge of a strange city. It was hewn from the rock of the caves, with torches illuminating the streets and lamps shining in the interior of the buildings. The path he stood on dropped down a slope and led to a bridge, then threaded its way through the streets towards some distant end.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Tamox jumped at Dreya’s unexpected voice.

“Y-yes.” he agreed. “Are… I mean, do you feel better?”

She nodded, though he suspected she was lying. 

“Do you want to see my home?” she asked. 

Tamox nodded. “Yes.”

“Then let’s go.”

They started down the path towards the dark metropolis, crossing the bridge and immersing themselves in the crowds. Dreya walked with a laid-back air, though Tamox was a bit on edge. As he passed a woman in the street, she stopped and stared. Other pairs of eyes locked onto him, and he began to get an uneasy feeling. He tried to ease his nervousness by studying his surroundings, but his eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dim light and he stumbled over a crack in the street. Dreya, sighing exasperatedly, glared at him and took his hand, pulling him along behind her.

“I can’t believe this.” she muttered.

“What?”

“Of all the… it doesn’t matter.” 

“Dreya, what is it?”

She halted and turned to face him. “Of all the defectors in all the forest, I had to find you. We couldn’t have some  _ Ilver _ turn back to our side, could we? Or an escaped Xarn?”

“I’m sort of – ”

“But I  _ had _ to get you, didn’t I?” Dreya moaned. “I had to get you.”

Tamox didn’t say anything.  _ By now I’m used to it. _ he thought.  _ No one takes me seriously. I hoped she’d be different. _

The queen was silent as she led her charge through the dark. Finally, she turned towards the entrance of the largest structure. 

“This is Lhiar.” she said. “My home.”

“It’s… big.” Tamox said, eyes wide at the immense rock walls and the massive twin doors guarding the entrance. They were open now, and easily three times his height.

“Well, what did you expect? Come on!” Dreya called, crossing into bright lamplight.

Tamox tried to follow her, but the doors suddenly swung shut in front of him.  _ Wonderful. _

“Hello?” he called, knocking his fist against the hard oak. “Anybody there?”

He started knocking harder, and promptly stumbled into Dreya as she opened the door.

“S-sorry.” Tamox said, straightening up.

Dreya just shook her head. “Come on.”

“Dreya!”

Striding toward the pair was Melane, dressed in a loose-fitting gown and glaring at Dreya.

“When you say you’re going aboveground, I don’t expect you to be gone  _ the entire morning! _ I was  _ this close _ ,” the librarian said, holding her forefinger and thumb a hair’s breadth apart, “to sending the Guard out after you!”

“I’m sorry, Mel. I ran into some trouble.” Dreya said, turning away.

“Trouble?” Melane cried, grabbing Dreya’s shoulder. “ _ What _ trouble?”

“Oh, nothing.” the girl said, turning towards the staircase.

“Andreya Orifax, bring your queenly posterior right back here!” Melane snapped. “You tell me what happened up there.”

“Nothing, really!” Dreya said. “I have my own life, Mel.”

“Dreya, if you destroyed something, I’ll –!”

“She didn’t!” Tamox burst out.

Melane turned to face him.

“S-she saved me.” he said. 

Melane glanced at Dreya. “She saved you? Her?”

“Yes.”

“Dreya… you’re… definitely in a peculiar mood.”

“And what’s wrong with me killing a few Myrl to save someone?” the queen cut in.

“There were Myrl? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because they’re dead now.”

“Oh.”

“Relax, Mel. And, um… this is Tamox. The one I saved.”

“Where have you been, Dreya?” the librarian asked, head in her hand as she prepared for another headache caused by the child her friend had left behind. “What in Kespa’s name is going ON?” 

“I’ve found it!” Dreya cried excitedly as Melane sized Tamox up from behind her palm. “It’s – I mean,  _ he’s _ our way into Kespa’s fortress. We finally have the edge we need to defeat her and end this madness.”

“Interesting.” Melane said, scrutinizing the newcomer more closely. “Just who are you again, Tamox?”

“I’m from Kespa’s fortress.”

“Nice to meet you  _ what? _ ”

“Uh, hi. I’m Tamox. I escaped from Kespa when she decided she didn’t want me anymore.”

Melane’s eyes blazed, but she was outwardly polite.

“Um… fascinating.”

Dreya shook her head and turned away. 

“Mel, have the reports from the scouts come in yet?” she asked.

Melane nodded. “Over on the table.”

“Thanks.”

“Tamox, why did Kespa say she didn’t want you?”

“She created me and sort of made a mistake.”

“What kind of mistake?”

“She wanted a loyal servant. I don’t want to serve her.”

“Why?”

“I saw what she really was, what she did to people. There’s this woman in a mirror, she’s in real bad shape.”

“In a mirror?”

“I saw Kespa torture her as part of a conditioning. It was awful.”

“Who was she, do you know?”

“No, but she looked around your age.”

“Dreya,” Melane said, “come over here. There’s a – ” 

“No time for that now.” she said.

“What is it?” Melane inquired.

“Our scouts have reported that a huge army of Myrl is headed westward. The reason for the shift is unknown, as their migratory pattern doesn’t agree, but the general direction of the host seems to be headed toward the Xarn settlement.” 

Melane frowned, her eyes closing as she puzzled over this latest problem and tried to dodge the disaster a little longer. “The Xarn? She must be planning some sort of invasion. Or maybe she just wants to have her troop source in custody.”

“What do we do?” Tamox cut in suddenly. “We can’t just let them destroy the Xarn!”

“No, we can’t.” Dreya agreed. “They’re strong allies when it suits them.”

“Don’t be so callous, Dreya. They’re short-lived, with matching attitude and temper. What do you expect of them?”

“But what are you going to  _ do  _ about it?” Tamox pressed. “I –  _ we _ – can’t let them die.”

“Why the sudden interest?” Dreya asked.

“I… there was…” Tamox stammered. “The gi – Saela – they’re in danger. I don’t want Kespa to win.”

“We need someone to go to them and tell their king about this new threat.” Melane said. “They won’t listen to just anyone, either.” 

“Then let me go!” Dreya cried fiercely. “I haven’t been away in weeks, Mel, let me go!”

The librarian crossed her arms. “What do you call your little trip to the surface, then?”

“Preservation of my sanity?”

“Not going to work this time, Dreya.”

“Why not let her go?” Tamox asked. “She’s the queen and they respect authority. They would trust her.”

“Because she’s our queen, Tamox!” Melane moaned. “She has duties here, with her people!”

“I never wanted those duties!” Dreya shouted. “I never got a choice!”

“I am not having this argument with you now, Andreya Orifax.” Melane growled. “Whether you like it or not, you are our queen and you have a responsibility to us.”

Dreya felt the anger rise up inside her. Every fiber of her being wanted to snap and scream for all she was worth that she could decide for herself what she wanted to do –  _ but what if I’m wrong? Do I really have freedom, or is it all an illusion? I… I don’t know. _

_ I don’t know. _

“Please…”

Melane jumped at the soft voice of her charge. Dreya was standing alone, her back to her guardian, but there was something different in her voice.

“I just want a choice.” she murmured. “I want to decide for myself. Please, Mel. Let me go.”

The librarian sighed. Dreya had a job to do, she had to be queen…

… but she also had to live.

“Andreya Orifax, you are absolutely incorrigible.” she sighed. “You may go. Just… please, take someone with you, alright?”

Dreya turned, a hint of a smile playing at her mouth.

“Tamox?” she said. “Time to get packed. We’re going on a little walk.”

* * *

Tamox was miserable. He had just arrived in Tralnrt, and now Dreya was dragging him off on some mission that he didn’t want to go on. When he had begged her not to take him, she had told him he could either come willingly, or with her sword up his backside. He was really having doubts now about this strange elf, who was currently running around packing for both of them. 

Bored, and wandered outside of the room Dreya had put him in, turned a corner, and promptly smacked his head on a wall.

He jumped back, muttering curses, and stared at the intricate scene painted on the wall. It was a mural, a montage of faces, all elves. Some of them were beautiful, but others were plainer looking. A few were covered in scars. The four in corners had tears spilling down their faces. Yet, Tamox saw that they all had a shining light in their eyes; that certain glow that all elves possessed despite how they looked. They had not lost their dignity to sadness. 

Two of the faces were larger than the others and centrally placed; a man and a woman. They both wore crowns of silver and diamond. The woman had long, gently curling brown hair, brown eyes, and pale skin. The man had keen teal eyes, jet-black hair, and a regal air in his face. Tamox stood looking at the two elves for a long time before Dreya found him.

“Come on.” she called, tossing a pack at him. “It’s time to go.” When he showed no sign of motion, she walked over to stand by him, carrying pack, quiver, bow, and sword. 

“What is this?” 

“It’s the Memorial Wall. The faces of all who died in the wars are seen here.” 

“Who are the two wearing crowns?” 

Dreya did not answer, but instead moved to stand against the wall facing Tamox. The two faces were on either side of her, slightly above her head. He realized that the elves he had been looking at bore a remarkable resemblance to Dreya. She had the woman’s copper curls in the two forelocks that sprung from the center of her hairline, and she had the same strange beauty that that portrait possessed. By contrast, she had the man’s black hair, high cheekbones, and expressive dark teal eyes. 

“They’re your parents, aren’t they?” Tamox asked quietly.

“Yes.” 

Dreya’s face was a mask of calm, but inside she was struggling to keep control. “They died in the wars, as you know.” She walked back to Tamox, picking up the pack he’d dropped to the floor, and shoved it into his arms again. 

“Come on. It’s time to go.” Her voice was strained, clipped and precise. 

Tamox pulled on his pack and hurried after her. She was moving fast, not glancing back at him or the Wall. 

_ Just one more thing I’ll have to forget… _

* * *

When they reached the entrance hall, Melane bid Dreya farewell. 

“You need to be careful.” she said. “Send me any messages before you do anything stupid.”

“Don’t worry about me, Melane.” Dreya said. “I’ll be fine.” They embraced, and then Dreya turned and left.

As they walked off, Dreya held up her hand in farewell. Melane repeated the action. Tamox waved uncomfortably. 

“Goodbye! See you soon!” he called. 

Melane smiled in spite of herself. Tamox would try to hurry her back, but Dreya was a born traveler.  _ I’ll probably see her in a month _ . the librarian mused. Despite her duty as a ruler, Dreya could never pass up an adventure.

* * *

Dreya pulled Tamox through Tralnrt before he’d really gotten a chance to observe the underground city. 

“It’s nothing.” she told him as they rushed along the streets. “This was supposed to be a temporary shelter. Norigoth was the real beauty.” Of course, Tamox didn’t have any clue what Norigoth was, and his companion refused to let him in on the secret. He decided to look around as much as possible, so as to not miss anything. Dreya, however, ignored him and walked on in silence. This carried on for some time, until they turned a corner into what she called the ‘residential section’.

Torches were lit up and down the streets. Elves walked here and there, performing their daily routines. One, a pale blonde woman, waved to Dreya. She smiled and waved back.

“Have a good day, Treyn!” she called. “Write Anshi for me!” The woman nodded and dashed off.

Tamox wondered if some of the elves here could even see the sun, or if it would blind them. They certainly had uncommonly large eyes. Everyone he saw looked content and well-fed, as if poverty didn’t exist here. Women wore dresses more splendid than Dreya’s, though her absence of sleeves and knee-length pleated skirt spoke of custom modifications for ease during travel; and the men wore loose-fitting white or tan shirts and black leggings that tucked into durable boots. Despite their status as refugees, no one looked particularly unhappy. And, to his excitement, Dreya gave up trying to ignore his questions and told him all about life in Tralnrt. She pointed out the interesting landmarks, and talked about the local history. It seemed as though Tamox would never remember it all.

“That is the armory.” she said, pointing to a low, sleek building with a domed roof. “Lhiar - that’s the name of the palace, remember – has its own, of course, but to arm the whole city from our tiny stocks would be unwise. So, each citizen of Tralnrt has a full weapon arsenal here. Oh, and that’s the storehouse next to it.” 

“The what?” 

“Where we keep our food.” 

“Oh.”

Dreya led him back through the tunnels in the same convoluted route as before, and then she started the upward climb. She reached the top before him, opened the rock a crack, and then climbed out. Tamox followed her up, a bit less easily. He was still obviously fearful of the forest and the patrols of Myrl. When he finally reached the top, he slid out cautiously.

“Fear of heights desert you?” Dreya asked.

“N-no.” he admitted. “It’s just not as bad going up.”

Dreya smiled faintly. “Alright, let’s get moving, shall we?” 

She turned and slid into the verdant green surrounding them. Tamox shouldered his pack and followed as best he could.

Tralnrt was behind them, and now they were off again.


	5. Sojourn & Quirlwing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've kept reading this I'm sorry and I suppose I'm also glad.

Dreya was slipping through the trees as silently as a forest shadow. Her head moved from side to side, like a deer on the lookout for danger. Even the birds and forest creatures ignored her. Tamox tried to imitate her, fascinated with her walk. He wasn’t nearly as successful. While he occasionally cracked just the smallest of twigs, it was as if she never disturbed a single leaf in any way. She had absolutely no weight. Tamox guessed that it was due to her training as a warrior. When you’re trying to hunt Myrl, you have to be quiet. Even his super-sensitive ears could detect no sound in Dreya’s footfall.

“How do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Walk like that.”

“Oh, it’s not that hard.” Dreya stopped walking and turned to help Tamox. “See how I put my feet right in front of each other? That really helps disguise your presence in the woodland, since the person behind you walks over your tracks. Try it.” Tamox did, carefully placing his feet directly in front of each other. Sure enough, he walked over Dreya’s tracks.

“See, you’re wearing soft shoes.” Dreya explained. “They don’t have any tread, unlike mine.” She exhibited her own black boots with their simple tread. “It’s designed to look like a natural leaf pattern, so that when you’re alone, you aren’t as easy to track.”

Tamox nodded agreeably and made a mental note to keep walking in a line. “So,” he asked, “what’s it like?”

“What do you mean?” Dreya asked.

“Being queen. Is it hard?”

“Only as hard as you make it to be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

There was no answer, but Tamox was in no mood to accept defeat. He was going to win Dreya over if it took him the whole trip.

“How far away are the Xarn?” he asked, trying a different tack.

“Maybe ten miles from Tralnrt.” Dreya answered, climbing over a log. “We should be there in about three hours, if the weather stays this clear.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” he replied, tripping over the same log. Dreya turned, one hand on her hip. 

“That’s the purpose of the camping supplies you’re carrying on your back.” 

“Oh.” Tamox answered. “So we’ll be camping?” Dreya sighed and started walking again.

“Tell me about yourself!” Tamox persisted. “I mean, about your family. Is there anyone besides your parents?” 

“I have a sister of sorts.” Dreya answered. “She’s away with one of the Guard patrols.” 

“The Guard? What do you mean?” 

“The guard is our army. I would have joined, but Melane forbade it.” 

“Who’s Melane?” Tamox pressed. 

“She’s like a second mother to me.” the girl explained. “Melane and my mother were great friends, and she was charged with me when my parents were killed. Technically, of course, I could have ordered her out; but we get along well enough to live in the same palace.” She fell silent, focusing on the ground ahead.

“Do you… I mean, is there a King of Tralnrt?” Tamox continued. Dreya laughed.

“Hardly. I have no interest in a husband.”

“Oh. Um, what about another queen?” he continued. “I mean, I know Kespa prefers women to men. Is it the same with you?”

“I am  _ nothing  _ like Kespa!” Dreya snapped, shocking him into silence. She took a deep breath before continuing, irritation plain in her voice. “Tamox, I don’t  _ want _ to get married, to  _ anybody _ , man or woman or otherwise _. _ It just… I don’t want to. I’ve never been in love, or even in lust, and I don’t  _ want _ to be either. It’s… it’s as if people around feel some sort of need, for companionship beyond friendship, or for something to end a physical desire I don’t have. Mel’s been trying for ages to get me someone,  _ anyone _ , because I’m Queen and I need an heir in case – in case I don’t make it – but I’ve told her no and explained that I’m not – that I don’t  _ want _ romance or marriage or suitors and I don’t  _ need  _ it and even that if it  _ is _ a need it’s one I don’t have. And that’s all I’ll say about the matter.” She turned back to the path ahead of them, and fell silent once more. 

“You said – you said you had a sister?” Tamox asked, but Dreya didn’t answer. He sighed and resolved to be more careful in the future, letting the silence between them sit for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry I compared you to Kespa.” he finally said softly, hoping she heard him. But as he spoke Dreya halted, freezing in place. She stood still for a moment, and then turned back to look at him, raising a finger to her lips. A slight shake of her head confirmed the order for absolute silence. She glanced over her shoulder nervously, and then she began frantically gesturing at him. Tamox darted over to where she stood, next to a thick bramble.

Her lips were moving, forming some soundless words. Tamox thought she was saying  _ down _ , so he sat on the ground. Dreya nodded and crouched next to him.

“There is a scouting party of Myrl right beyond these bushes.” she said. “Please try to stay quiet so that I can listen in to what they’re saying.” She leaned in, pressing one ear to the thicket of leaves.

“I’m taking us home.” 

“No, you’re not.” Two Myrl were at the head of a scouting party, arguing fiercely. One of the voices was gruff and grating, and the other was harsh and thickly accented. “There’s no sign of anything. No pests, none of those idiotic Xarn, and none of those cursed Elves to worry about.”

“There haven’t been any elves in a thousand years. They’re all dead.” 

Dreya sighed, her back pressed against the low hedge.

“Well then, what explains that a squad is missing? They didn’t report in, it’s like they vanished. It’s a typical elf trick.” Dreya’s face suddenly paled. Her eyes widened in something that might have been fear. Tamox thought that she looked sick. 

“No scents were detected, and the murderers left no trail. It might be Xarn.” the second Myrl insisted. 

“Xarn? They’re too scared to even stand and fight us.” the first one spat. 

“We’re better then those idiotic creatures; and they know it. That’s why they run.” the second corrected. “Anyway, it wasn’t elves.”

“Well, it’s rumored that the squad was chasing Crossover when they were killed.” came the first one’s response.

“What? Maybe he killed them then.” 

“No. Crossover may have been a perfectly designed warrior, but he’s a coward and a traitor to the Lady.” 

“The elves, if they are alive, could use a weapon like him in their futile resistance efforts.” 

“We’ll report anything we see on the way back. We’re going home, and I won’t have any more arguments!” The Myrl marched away into the distance, and Dreya relaxed visibly once they left. 

“That was close.” she whispered. “Insanely close. I can’t believe they suspect we’re still alive!”

“Dreya, were they talking about the squad that you killed?” Tamox whispered, not yet believing that they were truly safe. 

“I think so.” the elf replied, rocking back on her heels and fixing Tamox with a keen look. “But, who is Crossover?” Her question hung in the air, until Tamox suddenly blushed as if embarrassed.

Turning his head away, he mumbled “It’s me.” so quietly that Dreya could barely hear it, even with her elven ears. “I was sometimes called Crossover by the Myrl and by Kespa and her commanders because I was a cross between three races.” Dreya stood up and pulled Tamox from where he crouched on the ground. When he gave her a quizzical look she just rolled her eyes. “Come on. We’re going to see the Xarn.” Tamox sprang up after the elf as she stalked away.

“Dreya!” Tamox called. “Wait!”

Dreya turned on him. “What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“You.”

“What did  _ I _ do?”

“Why did you lie?”

“What are you talking about? I told you everything about me!”

“You said Kespa turned you out of her fortress. You didn’t tell me she was still looking for you!”

“The Myrl were  _ chasing _ me, Dreya!”

“Because you wandered into their camp!” Dreya cried. “If they were acting on orders to bring you back, you should have  _ told _ me! I would have let you stay behind.” She turned and stormed off, not catching Tamox’s last words.

“But… but I didn’t  _ really _ want to stay behind…”

* * *

As they walked, Dreya seemed to grow extremely uneasy, and Tamox noticed that she was always glancing into the trees above them. Suddenly, she stopped and beckoned to Tamox. He ran over and stopped next to her. 

“There’s something up there, following us,” she whispered into his ear. “But I don’t know if it’s on our side or hers.” Tamox froze and his eyes involuntarily turned upwards. There was a faint rustling noise in the branches above Dreya’s head, and now he realized that was what had unsettled the young queen. Dreya bent down, a finger to her lips, picked up a stone, and threw it into the trees. 

“OW!” something screamed, and then a bundle of brown and white tumbled out of the canopy and onto the ground. Dreya fitted an arrow to the string of her bow and pointed it at the shuddering heap of fur.

“Who are you? Why are you following us?” The heap was about two or three feet long, and the two white patches were actually white feathered wings the size of its body. A head popped up, and two huge brown eyes looked right at Dreya. She sighed and put away the bow. “It’s a Quirlwing.” Dreya told Tamox. “They’re harmless, so don’t worry.” Tamox stared. He had never seen a Quirlwing, and the thing looked odd. He had seen squirrels, but this was a huge one with two huge wings erupting from its shoulders. The animal straightened and looked at Dreya.

“Why are you threatening me?” it asked. “I’ve done nothing wrong.” Dreya looked apologetically at the creature. Tamox’s eyes had grown to twice their normal diameter as the Quirlwing talked, and his eyes flicked between it and Dreya as they spoke. 

“I’m sorry.” the elf replied. “I was afraid that we were being followed by Kespa.” 

At the mention of Kespa the Quirlwing scowled. “She cares for nothing except her own desires, and all know of the atrocities she has committed against your people, noble elf. I forgive you, and would have done the same thing if our places were exchanged.” The creature’s voice was feminine, and that seemed to surprise Tamox even more. Dreya wasn’t startled. “My name is Cassy.” the Quirlwing continued. Dreya smiled and nodded, a long, slow nod with eyes closed. Cassy repeated the action.  _ There are so many things I don’t know.  _ Tamox thought ruefully. Obviously this gesture was some sort of greeting, so he made a mental note of it for later.

Cassy fixed one of her huge brown almond-shaped eyes on him and looked up thoughtfully. 

“What are you?” she asked. Tamox blushed again, embarrassed. Dreya covered for him. 

“He’s a Xarn that was one of Kespa’s preliminary experiments. He’s on our side, though.” Cassy looked at Tamox for another second, and then turned her strange gaze on Dreya again. 

“Are you looking for Kespa?” Now it was Dreya’s turn to look embarrassed and Tamox’s turn to cover for her. 

“No. We’re going to warn the Xarn of a possible Myrl invasion.” Dreya was recovered by now and took over the conversation again. 

“We know of one way to go, but if you could guide us along faster paths, it would help prevent any further harm to the Xarn.” Cassy nodded at Dreya. 

“I know a faster way than the ground.” When Tamox looked quizzically at the Quirlwing, she turned her eyes upward to the trees.

* * *

The trees in the forest had an odd feature. Their branches were close, and you could move for miles without touching the ground. The Quirlwings, Cassy said, used this area as a road to all places in the forest. As they climbed through the tangle of branches from one tree to the other, Tamox turned to Dreya.

“Why did you tell her that I was a Xarn?” he asked quietly. Dreya gave him another this-is-the-most-obvious-thing-in-the-world stare and quietly answered. 

“If I told Cassy that you were not only engineered by Kespa, but you also lived in her fortress, that would make her suspicious. The Xarn are peaceful and want nothing to do with Kespa, so if you were one of them, it would make sense for you to be associated with elves.” Tamox realized the sense in that and thanked Dreya. 

“Cassy!” the elf called. “Could we stop for a lunch break?” The Quirlwing guide turned and nodded.

“Feel free.” she said. “We’ve only got a few more miles anyway.”

“But it’s only noon!” Dreya cried, glancing up at the sun as Tamox dug in his pack and pulled out a loaf of bread. “We had about eight more miles to go before we arrived!”

“That was on the ground.” Cassy pointed out. “If you were walking, you’d have to move to the ford in the river and cross there. That would cost you a lot of time.”

“Only about an hour. How is that so much of a difference?” Dreya had slipped her own pack out and removed an apple.

“An hour’s a lot of time.”

“There’s got to be something else.”

Cassy sighed. “Well,” she said, “if you must know, it’s magic.”

Dreya raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Something that Queen Lumine did as a favor. The trees in this part of the forest are all enspelled so that the time spent traveling through them is brief. She did it so that we could visit her or the Xarn without tiring ourselves out.”

“It’s a nice spell.” Dreya commented. “Perhaps I can do something of the sort with ground travel if I ever get the Medallion back.”

“What do you mean?” Cassy asked.

“Oh, she’s the queen.” Tamox said. Dreya hit him.

“Tamox,  _ be quiet _ !” she whispered, but Cassy did not look surprised. 

“I thought there was something royal about you. What’s your name?”

Dreya was taken aback by Cassy’s simple acceptance. “I’m Andreya Orifax,” she said, “but please call me Dreya.”

“Well, Dreya, we’re almost there. Maybe about five more minutes at the most.” 

“That’s amazing.” Dreya remarked, putting her own pack back on and elbowing Tamox to do the same. “Someday I’ll come back and examine this spell.”

“You’re welcome to it.” Cassy said, watching as her two guests rose to their feet. “It’s this way, so come on!”

The end of the trail came a few minutes later, with all three travelers perched in the topmost branches of a sturdy oak tree.

“I’ll climb down a bit further.” Dreya said. “It’s too far to jump from up here.” Cassy nodded and followed the elf down. Tamox looked nervously after them.

“Dreya, did you say ‘jump’?”

“Oh, don’t be such a weakling!”

Dreya and Cassy looked down through a gap in the leaves and dropped onto a lower limb of the tree. Dreya was the first to lightly hop down to the ground. Cassy leapt from the branch, using her two enormous wings as parachutes. Tamox had reluctantly climbed after them, and now he sat on the limb peering anxiously at the two girls below. 

“Come  _ on. _ ” Dreya said, staring up at him.

“I don’t like heights, remember?” he shot back.

“It’s easy.” she said. “Just stand up, put your arms out for balance and jump.” Tamox eyed the earth dubiously.

“I don’t think this is a good idea…”

“Oh, stop being a coward and jump!”

Tamox nodded, though his eyes were still full of fear. 

“I’m coming, don’t panic!” he announced. He stood up shakily, wobbled from side to side, flailed his arms for balance, fell off the branch when this failed, and hit the mossy earth hard. He heard Dreya giggling. 

“It’s NOT funny!” he protested as he picked himself up off of the ground. Then he saw that Dreya wasn’t laughing, though her eyes were full of mirth, and the Quirlwing was silent. The sound was coming from somewhere else. 

“After six months, you still can’t get out of a tree? That  _ is _ funny, Tamox, admit it.” said a soft voice. The speaker was a girl, about his age, who was climbing down from her seat in the low branch of another tree. She was clad in a simple brown dress in the Xarn style – one piece of fabric folded in on itself until it formed a gown that reached her ankles. Her skin was dark – far darker than Dreya’s own, and only a little lighter than the bark of the tree she’d been sitting in. Her hair was pale white, and though it was braided back to a point it stuck out behind her head in a mess of wild curls. Tamox stared, slackjawed, and Dreya had to admit that though she looked nothing like any of the Ilviren people she was quite pretty. Despite her physical charms, however, the most endearing thing about her was her laugh. 

“Who is she?” Dreya whispered to Tamox. He ignored her in favor of the newcomer. She then remembered that he told her one singular Xarn had helped him.  _ Maybe it’s her he was talking about. _

“Saela, you can stop now.” Tamox said, pushing himself off of the ground.

The girl did stop giggling at him eventually, and faced him with a twinkle in her eye. 

“Well, Tamox, I never expected to see you again. Have you kept safe?” she said.

“As safe as possible.” he replied coolly. Dreya was shocked to see that Tamox had  _ any _ voice like that. It was indifferent, in control, unemotional. Most of the time when he spoke to her, he was shocked or embarrassed, or simply uncomfortable. Now, however, there was a different tone about him. Dreya looked on as the two talked. 

“You said you’d come back.” Saela had just said. 

“I said I would, and I came back when I felt like it. I even saved that elf over there from some Myrl and-” 

WHACK! 

Tamox was no longer standing up, but was lying on his face on the ground, a huge blue lump forming on the back of his head from where the pommel of Dreya’s sword had knocked him flat. Saela stared at Dreya. 

“What did you do that for?” she asked. Dreya spoke to this girl just as coolly as Tamox had; only she was more imposing. “His story is slightly exaggerated. I met him when he was running from a squad of Myrl. I killed the Myrl and took him to my city, after which I took him with me to your kingdom, to warn your king of an invasion.”

Saela looked down at the unconscious Tamox. “Well, he does like to exaggerate things.” she sighed. “Anyway, it’s time I introduce myself. My name is Saela,” the Xarn girl continued. “I am of the Keir clan. What is your name?” Dreya sighed. Introducing herself to Xarn was always problematic, for they required that you leave nothing out about your status. 

“I am Andreya of the Orifax clan, mistress of the palace of Lhiar, and queen of Tralnrt.” Saela gasped. Though the Keir clan was a noble and ancient family, queen of Tralnrt was a much better position. “My lady, how can I serve you?” Saela asked.

Dreya sighed as she spoke again. “I’m not here to be served. Take me to your king, for I have urgent news.” Tamox, by this time, had recovered his wits and stood up. 

“Dreya, what hit me?” he asked dazedly. Dreya tried to hide a smile. 

“The spirit of truth.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, and the spirit of truth does not like all of your exaggerating about who you rescued and hit you with the pommel of a sword.” Saela burst out in another fit of laughter. Tamox blushed a deep scarlet as he realized what had happened.

“Sorry.” he murmured, turning back to Saela. “Dreya rescued me.” Dreya gave another smug half-smile, and he fought the urge to groan.  _ It’s like she can’t let anyone else have the credit, even if she  _ is  _ right. I don’t know what her problem is. _

Cassy, who had remained silent until now, spoke up quietly. “There are other people coming, I can hear them.” 

Dreya was instantly alert, pulling Tamox behind a tree and putting an arrow on the string of her bow, bending it back so as to be ready for action. Cassy slipped up into the canopy of a tree, and Saela waited in silence.

When a group of Xarn emerged, Dreya relaxed and put away her bow. 

“Saela, what are you doing here?” The girl sighed and faced the newcomers. 

“I wanted to get away and read. Is that such a problem?” The leader, a man about Tamox’s height, answered Saela gravely. 

“Yes, it is a problem when you don’t tell people where you are!” 

“I think that I can make up for the trouble I caused. Dreya?” Saela turned and faced the tree where Dreya and Tamox were hidden. Slowly Dreya emerged. The Xarn gasped. She didn’t look like any other Ilvir they had ever seen. Her dress was only knee-length, with no sleeves. The whole thing was a dark green, with the silver Star of Tralnrt in the center of the top. The skirt was made of pieces of what must have (previously) been the sleeves. A pair of sturdy black boots, a sword-belt with a scabbard on it, and a bow and quiver strapped across her back completed the outfit. The man continued to stare in shocked silence, and then mastered himself and spoke. “I am Keplan of the Keir clan, counselor to the king and father to Saela.”

Dreya sighed. So Saela was the daughter of the king’s counselor, and now she had to do the whole introduction over again. “I am Andreya of the Orifax clan, mistress of the palace of Lhiar, and queen of Tralnrt.” Cassy slipped out of the tree to light on Dreya’s shoulder, and Tamox quietly emerged from his hiding place and stood next to Dreya. “This is Cassy,” the elf continued, “who guided us to this place. She means you no harm. Also, this is Tamox, who I saved from a scouting party of Myrl. The Myrl are dead, and none of the surviving Myrl know that I killed the scouts. You are safe.” Keplan’s eyes narrowed. 

“My lady, why have you come?” Dreya sighed and straightened up, fully facing Keplan. 

“That is not a matter for this place and time. I must speak to whoever leads your people.” Keplan nodded and turned to face Saela. 

“Lead them to the Hall. I will continue on ahead to tell the king of the Lady’s arrival. Oh, and Saela, we will talk of this disappearance problem later.” Dreya looked enviously at Saela as the Xarn girl began to continue to guide them. Even though her father pestered her regularly, at least she  _ had _ a father to pester her. She tried and failed to picture the Lord Darys scolding and chastising his daughter - the thought made her smile a little. Darys had been distant at best, too concerned with the war effort to be a proper father to her. With a shrug, she turned to Tamox, who was silent and following her closely.

“Are you all right?” she murmured. He nodded.

“Only a little nervous. Last time I was here… things didn’t end well.”

Dreya frowned and tried to give him a reassuring look. “This time,” she said, “nothing will happen.” He nodded distantly but didn’t answer, seemingly lost in thought.

_ You’ve been cruel to him. _ she reminded herself.  _ Better apologize. _

“There are others.” she said at last. When he looked at her she shrugged. “Other than Kespa, I mean. Who prefer the company of women. My cousin Valeria says she enjoys men and women equally, though she is favoring men at the moment, and Aora our smith has only ever been seen with women. I know it’s sometimes frowned upon among the Xarn if social classes are too distant, but our only rule is discretion. There’s not a lot of privacy in Tralnrt, so we only ask that liasons are kept behind closed doors for the comfort of all.”

“Oh.” Tamox replied. “I – I’m sorry. I know I’m not like that and the only person I could think of who  _ was _ was Kespa. I didn’t meant to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” Dreya said, though it was obviously untrue. “I’m… I’m sorry I was harsh, Tamox. I snapped because everyone tells me there’s something wrong with me. I haven’t met the right person yet, or it just takes time, or one day something will change and I’ll suddenly be mad with love. And it hasn’t happened, and I don’t want it to. I’m happy as I am. I just wish they understood.”

“I understand.” Cassy said from her perch on Dreya’s shoulder. “I mean, I’m barely out of the nest in my people’s reckoning but I understand. I’m like you, I think. So you’re not broken, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does.” the girl admitted. “If only I could introduce you to Melane.”

“Maybe later.” Tamox said. “For now let’s keep going, shall we?”

Dreya thought privately that he just wanted to be close to Saela, but she said nothing and went onwards towards the Hall.


	6. The Xarn

Saela proved an expert guide, leading the visitors through the Xarn territory as easily as Dreya navigated the tunnels of Tralnrt. Tamox trailed behind, his steps noticeably subdued as they followed the girl.

“Stay close.” she said. “Nobody’s too fond of outsiders.”

Dreya nodded. She nudged Tamox, who shrugged off her elbow.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“I – I was here before.” he said. “They hated me.”

The queen sighed. She knew more painfully then most the price of being herself, and despite her frustrations with Tamox she felt some pity for him. What had it been like, with him so scared and alone and everyone hating him because of something he couldn’t control?

“It’s different now.” she said. “You’re with me. They’ll listen to me.”

Tamox gave her a look that oozed disbelief, but he said nothing.

“And here we are!”

Saela interrupted the illicit exchange with a smile. “That’s the Hall.” she said, pointing to a long wooden structure spread out between the trees. “Our Scion Sirold Treln lives there with his bondmate and daughter.”

“Is that where we’re staying, Dreya?” Tamox asked. “I mean, we are staying the night, right?”

The queen sighed. “Perhaps, Tamox. I wasn’t going to impose on the hospitality of the Xarn more than I had to.”

“It’s not imposing; I mean, I don’t think it is.” Saela said. “I’m sure a place can be found for you, your Highness.”

Dreya sighed. Before she dealt with the problem of the Myrl, she would have to deal with the problem of her title.

“Listen, Saela.” she began. “I – I don’t need to be called by some title to know I’m queen. It’s not important to me, understand? Please just call me Dreya.”

Saela stopped and turned around.

“Listen –  _ Dreya _ – it’s not polite. I’m just a counselor’s daughter, you’re a queen. I need to treat you properly. Please.”

Dreya groaned.  _ Blasted court protocols. _

“All right.” she finally sighed. “Call me Lady Dreya. If you must.” 

Saela brightened visibly. 

“I hope you understand – I’m just not comfortable with what you asked of me.”

Dreya nodded, doing her best to mask her internal curses. Saela smiled and turned to continue on towards the Hall. 

Tamox resumed his walk, glancing at Dreya out of the corner of his eye.

“What is it?” he whispered. “You look upset.”

The queen sighed again and rolled her shoulders back.

“If all of the Xarn are this way, I will get very, very tired very, very fast.” she replied.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re too formal, Tamox!” Dreya said fiercely, her voice low but full of anger. “I can’t  _ stand _ being called Lady Andreya or ‘your Majesty’ or ‘highness’ or even any title at all! I want my people to feel that they can  _ trust _ their queen, and how can they do that if they can’t even call me by name?”

“I don’t know!” he cried. “And what can you do about it, anyway?”

“Lady Dreya?” Saela called. “Is everything… alright?”

Dreya muttered something in Ilverin.

“I’m fine, Saela. Just having a discussion with Tamox.”

“Well, we’re here.” the girl said. “So you might want to be a little more calm, milady.”

Before Dreya could react, Tamox grabbed her arm.

“Calm down.” he said. “She’s just doing what she feels to be right.”

The queen groaned.

“Fine.” 

The conversation was interrupted by Cassy. 

“Dreya! Tamox! Look!” The two travelers shifted their vision to the front, and realized that they had arrived.

The Hall, like the other buildings that they saw in the huge clearing, was constructed entirely of wood. Dreya was surprised at that – almost all of her memories took place in Tralnrt, where earth and rock composed the only building materials, and even above ground the Ilverin people preferred stone for their homes.

“Impressive.” she said. “I’ve never seen such an ornate hall.” She meant it, too – Tralnrt was many things to her, but whatever beauty it held was cold and crude compared to the structure before her.

“I’ll pass on your compliment to the artisans.” Saela said. “Please, come with me.”

She led them up the steps and through the ornately carved doors, deftly stepping aside to allow Dreya to see inside.

The queen was surprised to find that unlike her own palace, the Xarn hall was positioned with the throne room in front. She was looking across a polished wooden floor to a series of steps and a large throne, where a middle-aged Xarn man was listening to a group of what she presumed were counselors or advisors. One of them turned in her direction, and she recognized Keplan.

“My king,” he said, “the elven ruler I spoke of has arrived.”

The men stepped back as the man on the throne stood to receive his guests. The other Xarn nobility moved aside to form a path, staring eagerly at the newcomers. Dreya approached, Tamox quickly coming alongside her. When they were before the throne, Tamox bowed deeply and glanced at Dreya, motioning for her to follow suit.

“You have to respect his authority.” he whispered as she bowed. “Otherwise, you’re insulting his position as ruler.”

“Thanks.” Dreya whispered back.

“Welcome to our home.” the king announced. “I am Sirold Treln, scion of the Ruling House, and I bid you welcome.”

Tamox stood, and Dreya straightened up.

“I am honored to be here, my lord.” she said. “I hope that this will be the first of many visits.”

Sirold smiled. “What is your name?” he asked.

Dreya straightened up to her full height. She might have been in traveling wear, but she looked every bit as regal as the king before her. 

“I am Andreya of the Orifax line, mistress of the palace of Lhiar and queen of the Ilviren people.” she said. “I have come on an errand of great importance, and I ask for but a moment of your time to plead my case.” 

The room went dead silent, and then to Tamox’s shock everyone but Sirold dropped to one knee before his erstwhile rescuer. When Cassy, who had fluttered to the ground when Dreya spoke, nudged him with her wing, he followed suit.

“Why?” he whispered. Cassy looked up at him, and her eyes grew calm and the light within them dimmed. “She is a great queen.” the Quirlwing answered; her small voice was full of serene wisdom. “That power is in her always, though it is veiled normally.” 

Dreya, having introduced herself, turned to Tamox and Cassy. 

“Also, here are my fellow travelers. This is Cassy, a Quirlwing, and Tamox, a companion of mine.” Tamox reluctantly rose to his feet and felt his face grow hot under the scrutiny of the Xarn. He had been here before, and he felt no more comfortable in the company of a queen then he had as a refugee. He was helped some by Cassy, who fluttered to his shoulder for a better view of the people around her.

“We come bearing grievous news.” the girl continued.

Sirold frowned.

“What?” he asked, face grim. The pleasantries were obviously over, and now business took precedence. “What prompted this visit?” 

Dreya stood there, not flinching at the keen gaze of the king. She was less then presentable, with mussed hair, her pack on her shoulders, and her sword at her side, but she commanded the attention of all in the room as only an Orifax could. 

“You will all die unless you prepare for war now.” she told the king, her own eyes locked on his face. Sirold frowned, and a hint of sadness crept into his expression. 

“Who is coming?” he asked in a hoarse voice. Dreya answered, her voice echoing around the room so that none could have escaped hearing the words she spoke next. 

“An army of Myrl is heading this way. Our scouts show that they appear to be prepared for conquest, and they’re not more than five miles from your city now.”

The silence was shattered with a  _ crack _ as something hit the floor. Tamox jumped and turned to see Saela bending to retrieve her fallen book. The fear and concern in her eyes was plain to see. He wondered for a moment what was running through her mind, what her family would do in the coming crisis, but his thoughts were cut off by the mounting murmurs of fear filling the room. 

Dreya stood tall in the midst of the swirling confusion. She realized the dangerous nature of her words, and she understood that information was vital if Sirold wished to prevent utter panic.

“I cannot tell you any more now; we departed to warn you as soon as this report came. But I advise you to take shelter and prepare for war.”

“To what end, milady?” Keplan asked, his eyes flashing. “If, as you say, the Myrl come for us, then we have tried and failed before to fight them. Their numbers are too great, and every casualty we suffer merely gives them another soldier.”

Dreya glared, resisting the urge to lash out.

“I merely offer my opinion.” she said. “In case your memory fails you, sir, my people have lost much to the Myrl as well.”

Keplan bristled, but backed down. The murmurs continued, but Dreya felt all eyes drawn to her.  _ I have to do something. _ she realized with a thrill of something not unlike dread.  _ But what do they want from me? _

Tamox glanced from Dreya’s tense stance to Saela beside him. Her eyes were wide, and she blinked back tears as her father stepped away from the throne and the Ilverin queen and placed a hand on her shoulder. Neither father nor daughter spoke a word, but Keplan eventually gave Saela’s shoulder a quick squeeze and slipped out of the room. She gave Tamox a mournful look he couldn’t quite interpret, and he felt his heart thud inside of him.

_ Come on, Dreya. _ he pleaded mentally.  _ Do something. _

Dreya didn’t hear him, but she did feel the tension. Not for the first time, she wondered if it had been wise to come here practically alone. She was barely past her halfage, still learning, and both her companions had no experience in diplomatic matters.  _ I’m not an ambassador, _ she silently groaned,  _ but unless I do something the court will degenerate into chaos and apathy. They’ll die, scared and alone – wait, alone! That’s it! _

The queen drew herself up, projecting as much of her royal bearing as she could, and steeled herself as if for battle.

“None deserve to die alone.” she said, her teal eyes burning into Sirold’s face. “And I swear to you that your people will not be abandoned if this comes to war.”

“You can guarantee that?” he asked, some of his energy returning.

“I am the queen.” Dreya answered, trying not to lose her composure.  _ Formal… got to stay formal. _ “And I promise you, your Majesty, that the Ilverin people will back you in this if you defend yourself.”

The room went dead silent. Dreya felt an edge of confidence come back, so she let a half-smile tug at her mouth and repeated what she’d said.

“You have my word. We will back you in this.”

Sirold was silent, his eyes searching inward as he considered the queen’s words. Finally he met her gaze, and there was iron resolve in his face.

“We prepare for war.” he announced. “Gather our people.”

* * *

“What do we do now?” Cassy asked.

The Xarn court had moved from solemnity to urgency, leaving Dreya and her two companions adrift in a sea of moving bodies. 

“I don’t know.” Dreya replied, trying to decide if she should offer to help. “There’s not much for us to do now that the message is delivered.”

“We could leave.” Tamox suggested. “If there’s nothing else to do, why should we stay?”

“Because it’s rude not to, Tamox.” the queen said. “You can’t just disappear when the job’s done.”

“I don’t know.” Cassy murmured from where she sat. “I’ve been gone for a long time, and I need to get home.”

“Where is home for you?” Dreya asked, turning to her Quirlwing guide. “I don’t know much about your people, Cassy, and I’d like to learn.”

“It’s not far from where you found me.” Cassy answered, her paw brushing against where Dreya’s well-aimed stone had knocked her from the tree. “Maybe a mile. I’m still in the nest, though, and being gone for a long time could make my family nervous.”

“I’ll try to be as quick as possible.” the Ilviren girl replied. “I don’t want your family to worry.”

“What about you?” Cassy asked. “Do you have any family?”

Dreya sighed. “Not exactly.”

Tamox frowned. “But didn’t you say you had a sister?”

Before Dreya could answer, a shout cut through the buzz of preparations. Saela rushed past the travelers, pushing a number of annoyed Xarn courtiers out of her way and throwing herself at someone near the door. She embraced the somewhat shocked figure, a girl Dreya didn’t recognize, and ignored the older woman standing nearby.

“Destina’s hand.” she swore. “I thought… after what they said… but thank the Lady you’re alive.”

The girl slipped out of Saela’s grasp and raised an eyebrow.

“Saela?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

“Yes,” the older woman interjected, “I’d like to know.”

Saela’s eyes widened and she dropped to the floor in a respectful kneel.

“Your majesty.” she murmured. “Forgive my familiarity in your presence.”

“Of course.” the woman said with a shrug. “Now explain.”

“The Myrl.” Saela said. “They’re coming for us. And they’re only a few miles away.”

The girl’s face drained of color. “You thought… you thought we were Taken.” she said slowly. “That our search for dye ended in death. Saela, I…”

The older woman, whom Saela had identified as the Queen, straightened up and searched for Sirold across the room. When she had found him, she turned to the girls.

“Kieral, come.” she said. Her tone was commanding, and the girl gave Saela a final apologetic glance before following.

Tamox stood as they passed, turning to Saela and beckoning for her to join him.

“Who was that?” he asked softly. 

“Her name is Kieral.” Saela answered, sitting on the floor to face the group. “She’s the daughter of the Ruling House, and she’s my friend. The Scion’s bondmate doesn’t exactly…  _ approve _ … of our closeness.”

“Why not?” Cassy asked. “You’re a nice enough person.”

The girl smiled. “Thank you. But I’m only the counselor’s daughter. Kieral is of the Ruling House, and I am not. Usually that means we wouldn’t even talk, let alone be friends. But it happened anyway.”

Dreya was silent. The Xarn girl’s words had sent her thoughts inward, dredging up old memories and beloved faces, and the more she thought on them the nearer she came to tears.

“Dreya?” 

Tamox’s hand was on her shoulder. She realized that her demeanor must have given her away and shrugged off his touch.

“It’s nothing.” she insisted.

He gave her his best unconvinced stare.

“You can tell me.” he said.

Dreya rolled her eyes.

“Fine.” she sighed. “It’s about Anshi.”

“Her sister.” Tamox clarified, glancing at a confused Saela. 

“Not exactly.” the queen said. “See, we met as children. We weren’t close, not at first, but because of the war, there weren’t many children to play with. So she followed me around until I paid attention.” Dreya almost smiled at the memory. “We became friends, despite all odds.”

“Did your parents like it?” Saela asked. “That you were friends, I mean.”

“They didn’t mind.” Dreya said. “They encouraged it. They were so busy with the war that they had no time for me.”

“That’s awful!” Cassy cried. “You’re their daughter, how can they not have time for you?”

“There was a war on.” the girl shrugged. “It happens.”

“But you’re Scion now.” Saela said. “What happened?”

“Kespa.” Dreya said. The name was like a weight in the air. “And so now I’m queen. And I would trade anything for that to change.”

“But why do you say Anshi’s your sister?” Tamox asked, not wanting to return to the topic of the usurper and her deeds.

“Because she took me in.” Dreya replied. “When I reached my quarterage, she made me her bond-sister. Her family became my family. I don’t see Aril and Treyn as my parents, but at least I have someone besides Mel that I can go to.”

“Do you see her a lot?” Cassy asked.

“Sometimes. Not as much as I used to.”

“Why not?”

“When I became queen, we stayed in touch, but then she entered the Guard, our army. I supported her choice, of course, but she’s been out in the forest for a long while, and I miss her.” Dreya sighed and wiped away a tear that had slipped out as she talked. Thinking of Anshi didn’t normally bring tears, but she was willing to accept this single slip-up. “Now, she could be dead and I wouldn’t know.”

Tamox felt as if he had been doused with ice water. For once, he thought he could truly see  _ Dreya _ \- not another layer in her personality. The Dreya who grieved for her parents and missed her friends and had emotions and didn’t keep it all hidden inside of her was finally there for all to see. Then, the vision passed, and the barriers were up. The Dreya he knew was there again, the untouchable elven-queen once more.

“Your majesty?”

Dreya stiffened at the unfamiliar voice and didn’t respond.

“My… my lady?”

Tamox elbowed the queen and she reluctantly turned around. The girl Saela had spoken to – Kieral – was standing before her, looking somewhat confused as to why the visiting royalty was sitting on the polished floor. 

“What?” Dreya asked.

Kieral blinked, but decided to ignore the strange scene.

“My father wishes to know if you would join us for a meal.” she said.

“A meal?” Tamox asked. 

“Could… shouldn’t we be leaving soon?” Cassy asked. “I need to get home.”

Dreya thought about it for a few moments.  _ With that wonderful traveling spell, I might be home before nightfall…but Sirold expects me to act the diplomat… _

“We’ll stay for a while.” she decided. “Just until dinner’s over.”

Kieral smiled. “The dining area’s this way; please follow me.” 

Dreya stood and moved after Kieral, her ebony hair swaying gently behind her. The others stayed behind, speaking in hushed voices. The girl walked to a small door set somewhat behind the throne, opening it and leading Dreya into a long hallway with many rooms on either side.

“If you would step in here,” she continued, pointing to a small open room, “there’s a washbasin and a bit of a looking-glass, if you need it.” Dreya peered at her reflection and began to make minor adjustments, scrubbing dirt off her face and adjusting her mussed hair.

“Is there somewhere I can leave my pack?” she asked.

“Anywhere in here works.” Kieral said. “And if you could disarm that would be appreciated. The dining room’s just this way, if you’re ready.”

Dreya nodded, unbuckling her sword and leaving her bow and quiver beside the washbasin. She followed the Xarn heir out into the hall and through a doorway into a brightly lit room.

It was smaller than she’d expected it to be, and set for four. Sirold and the woman from before were sitting at one end.

“Your majesty.” the Scion said, and rose to greet her. Dreya inwardly groaned and put up a polite smile. 

“Thank you for having me.” she said.

“It is our pleasure.” said the woman.

“Oh.” Sirold said. “This is my…  _ consort _ , Elindra.” Elindra smiled, though there was something cold in her eyes.  _ I wonder what’s wrong. _ Dreya thought. 

“Please sit.” Kieral said, having followed Dreya into the room. “I’ll bring in dinner.” The queen sat opposite Elindra, and set her mind to deciphering this unusual woman.

“Are you really Queen of your people?” Elindra asked. 

Dreya nodded. 

“How extraordinary!” the woman cried. 

“Do I look so unusual to your eyes, milady?” Dreya asked. 

“Well, you look to be barely of age, if that!”

“Dear,” Sirold began, placing his hand on hers, but Elindra gently turned away and continued speaking to Dreya.

“I’m sorry if I offended you, your Majesty.” she said.

“Oh, no.” Dreya assured her, and smiled at Sirold. “It is true that I am unnaturally young for my role, but the people demanded I rule them.”

“Why?” Elindra asked.

“We place a lot of value on the bloodline of our rulers.” Dreya explained. “Not that royal blood is better or worse than common blood, but the Orifax family has ruled for twelve generations and no one wished for someone else to take their place while a living heir was present.”

“Interesting.” Elindra said. “I assume that there is a King of the elves, as well?” Dreya recognized this for what it was- polite conversation and a false front.  _ Why the disguise, I wonder? _

“Not yet,” Dreya said, “as I’m too young to marry in the Ilviren tradition.” Elindra looked as though she would press the subject, but at that moment Kieral arrived with platters of food.

“Dinner is served.” she announced.

The meal was pleasant enough. The main course appeared to be some sort of venison, with a garnish of crayfish from the river nearby and a mushroom soup.

“Try the salad.” Kieral said, passing Dreya the bowl.

“What kind of salad is it?”

“Goldenstar leaves with chopped beets, breadcrumbs, and a raspberry vinegar dressing.”

Dreya doubtfully took a forkful. “This is good!” she cried. “I didn’t know goldenstar was edible!”

Elindra smiled. “It’s a fairly recent discovery.” she said. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Did you try the soup?” Sirold asked.

Dreya nodded, taking a bite of crayfish. “It’s delicious.” she said. “And the crayfish aren’t bad either.”

“Really?” Sirold said. “Better than your palace cooks?”

“Oh, we don’t ever have fish or other water creatures to eat.” Dreya said. “Nothing edible lives in Tralnrt’s river.”

“What sort of things do you eat?” Kieral asked. 

“Well,” Dreya said, “we eat a lot of mushrooms since they grow wild in the caves. In fact, we have mushrooms in almost every meal.”

“Even breakfast?”

“Mushroom omelettes.” Dreya said. “We have a lot of chickens in a chamber behind the kitchens, and everyone in the whole city gets a basket of eggs every morning.”

“That’s interesting.” Elindra cut in. “Do they get paid for the work they do, as well?”

“Oh, we have no use for money. Everyone is ‘paid’ in food and household supplies based on how many people there are in the household. A family of four receives more than a single person would, and so on.”

“But how do they get other things?” Sirold asked. “Like clothing?”

“If you wanted an article of clothing, you’d put in a request with the weavers’ guild. They would contact you for the information about the cloth you needed, and you’d give them details like color, type of material, and thickness. The time it takes to deliver the order varies due to availability. If they have what you need on hand, you get it immediately. Otherwise, you wait for the cloth to be woven.”

“If you’re underground,” Sirold asked, “how do you raise the flax needed for cloth?”

“There are areas of cave where the ceiling has collapsed and the light shines through.” Dreya answered. “We use those areas to grow vegetables and plants such as flax, cotton, and tarinna for pseudosilk.” She sipped the last bit of mushroom soup and sat back, reaching for the venison. “Tell me about yourselves.” she said. “I don’t know much about your people.”

Sirold glanced to Kieral. “Would you tell her?” he asked.

“What do I say?” she asked.

“Just remember your lessons.” Elindra put in. Sirold looked momentarily annoyed and glanced sideways at his wife.

“I was going to tell her that.” he murmured. To him, the words were no doubt a whisper, but Dreya’s combat-trained ears could hear every word.

“I know,” Elindra said crossly, “but I never get to talk at these dinners.”

“Yes you do.” Sirold said. “It’s just that you talk about the most inappropriate topics.”

“I  _ do not _ . You dominate the conversation.”

“This is not the time.” Sirold said, looking uncomfortably at Dreya as if to apologize for the disagreement. “We will discuss this later.”

“You won’t remember to discuss it later!” Elindra whispered fiercely. “We talk about this  _ now _ !”

“They fight a lot.” Kieral whispered to Dreya.

“We aren’t fighting, dear.” Sirold said.

“No, we’re having tea.” Elindra said sarcastically. “Tell the child the truth, Sirold!”

“I just don’t want her to worry!” Neither one of them was making even the slightest effort to conceal the argument now. “She has enough on her mind now with the invasion!”

“She isn’t a baby anymore!” Elindra shot back. “She is old enough to know about our problems!”

Dreya felt out of place. She’d never seen anything like this before. Anshi’s parents, Aril and Treyn, had had their share of disagreements around her, but they always sat down and talked them out calmly. No elf couple she had ever seen would have fought like this in private, let alone in front of a guest.

_ Please, _ she thought,  _ let me be excused. _ The air of antagonism in the room made her uncomfortable.

“Dreya?” The queen snapped her head up. It was Saela at the door.

“What?” she asked, silently thanking the Fates for their excellent timing.

“There’s a messenger here who wants to talk to you.”

“A messenger?” Dreya asked, rising from the table. “What sort of messenger?”

“He’s an elf.” Kieral explained. “From your city. He said that there’s something that you need to hear.”

Dreya turned back to Sirold and Elindra. “Pardon me.” she said to the rulers, now locked in a full argument. “I have to go.” Sirold turned from his angry wife long enough to nod. 

“I hope the news is good.” he said.

Dreya rose quickly and exited with Kieral behind her, making her way back to the throne room.

“Do they always fight like that?” she asked after they were out of hearing range from the dining room.

“All the time.” Kieral said. “Don’t people do that where you come from?”

“Not really.” Dreya said. “Most couples settle their differences in private with calm discussions.”

“No arguments?” Kieral asked, puzzled. “I don’t know what they’d be like if they didn’t argue.”

“I don’t know what would happen if all the husbands and wives in Tralnrt were like your parents.” Dreya admitted. “But don’t tell them I told you, all right?”

Kieral smiled. “It’ll be our secret.” she agreed. “Oh, here we are at the throne room.”

Dreya stopped to examine the scene. The once-full room had emptied. Tamox, Saela, Cassy, and the messenger were the only occupants, and they were all deep in conversation.

“Greetings.” Dreya said to the messenger, walking over to join the group. “What brings you here?” 

The messenger turned to face her. “Dreya, this is serious.” he said. It was Aril Hitaro, Anshi’s father.

“Aril!” Dreya cried delightedly. “You don’t normally run messenger duty. What brings you here?”

His face was taut; his eyes were full of sorrow. “Something’s happened.”

“Was there an attack?” Dreya asked. “Is Melane all right? Is-?”

“Read this.” he said, pulling a letter from a pouch at his side. “I can’t stay.”

“Why don’t you tell me yourself?”

“I am only a messenger, Dreya.” He winced as he spoke, his voice heavy with some great sadness. “I- I cannot speak of it.”

She raised an eyebrow, ready to order him to explain, but then he surprised her by suddenly enveloping her in a tight hug.

“Aril - ?”

He released her, turned, and exited without a farewell as Dreya looked on quizzically.

“What’s going on?” she cried after him. He didn’t answer.

“Take the trees.” Tamox called to him. “You’ll get back faster.” Aril nodded briefly and brushed a tear away before disappearing into the forest. Dreya briefly glimpsed him climbing up a sturdy elm, and then he was gone.

“Aril!” she called, but there was no answer. A feeling of dread seeped up into her stomach.  _ Oh, no. _

Panic engulfed her, and she ripped the letter open.

_ There’s been an attack…I just know it! _ Dreya cursed herself for deserting her people.  _ I should have been there!  _ As her eyes scanned the paper, though, she realized it was something worse. Tralnrt was whole, but there had been a terrible loss. 

“No…” Dreya whispered faintly. Her hand wrenched up, letting the paper drop to the wooden floor. She sank into a heap on the floor herself, knees drawn up to her chin, arms limp on the ground. Tamox watched in shock as tears spilled from Dreya’s eyes and ran down her cheeks. The look on her face was one of utter despair.

“The messenger!” he called. “Bring him back!”

“It’s too late, Tamox.” Cassy said. “He took the trees, remember? He’ll be beyond our reach by now.” Tamox groaned, but then he surprised himself by bending down to retrieve the letter.

“What are you doing?” Saela demanded. “It’s none of your business.”

“She might need me.” he said. “I want to be there for her.”

Saela glanced at the catatonic queen on the floor in front of her.

“He’s right.” Cassy said. “She needs someone.”

Saela shook her head in surrender. “Fine.”

Tamox opened the letter.

“Dear Dreya,” he read slowly. “All is well here but there is some ill news.” Dreya’s eyes were somewhere else, her face a mask of cold pain. “Our scouts were looking in on a distant Guard post, to ensure that all was well. The post reported one of the soldiers had been missing for some time. Apparently, she never returned from a routine patrol. A party was launched to search for her. There was no luck.” Tamox’s voice shook as he continued on, despite the shocked looks that Saela and Kieral were giving him. “Her captains are uncertain of when she disappeared, but the timetable is set with a number of other deaths. However, I can tell you who it was who disappeared.” He took a deep breath before continuing.

“It’s Anshi. Anshi’s gone.” 

His voice trailed off as he closed his eyes, dropping the paper. Dreya had suffered so many losses, including her parents, her childhood, and her innocence. Now, her only friend – and her sister – had vanished.

“We’re sending an escort to bring you home.” he finished. “See you when you get back. Regards, Melane.” 

Saela and Kieral looked at him, then at Dreya, then at Cassy, then back at him. 

“Who was Anshi?” asked Kieral quietly. Tamox tried to answer, finding that his voice had fled. 

“She was, well, um, she…” 

“I can say it.” Cassy cut in suddenly. “I heard what Dreya said earlier, and she needs to know.” The Quirlwing turned to the girl and hovered at about eye level so they didn’t have to look down. “Anshi Hitaro was Dreya’s best friend, and her bond-sister. They met as small children and each became the other’s closest companion. The friendship could have died, but when Dreya reached quarterage Anshi and her parents adopted her. Recently, Anshi joined the Guard and has been away for many years. Now… she’s gone.”

Dreya felt as if she was suffocating. She had to fight the urge to throw up. A new feeling that she had never felt before, like she had been punched hard in the stomach, was coming in fast. 

_ Anshi… gone… no… _

“We were sisters.” she moaned, shooting daggers at Tamox through her vicious stare. “She ADOPTED ME!” Dreya closed her eyes again, shaking with barely concealed agony.

“What’s the problem?” he asked. “She’s not dead… is she?”

“She might as well be. You saw what Mel said about the other deaths, she could be  _ anywhere. _ ”

“But if you don’t know…”

“Listen to me, Tamox. People disappear  _ all the time.  _ And do we ever find them? No.”

“She could come back on her own, though.”

“Come back? Tamox, when people disappear, there is no  _ coming back. _ ”

Burying her head in her arms, Dreya began to sob.

Tamox watched her slowly, the ice seeming to encircle him as well. He felt like he should do something, but he didn’t know what. He had no idea what to say to her, and a hug wouldn’t have looked right to the surrounding Xarn. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to hug Dreya, anyway. Cassy saved him from an awkward position by fluttering over to Dreya’s side. She put her paw on the elf’s shoulder and whispered into Dreya’s ear. 

“No one should have to go through this,” she said, “ but Dreya, you’re still queen. I need to get home. Tamox needs to learn. And don’t your people need you?” 

Dreya opened her eyes, and the brokenness was obvious in the visible slits of teal. 

“I have to continue on…” she murmured faintly. 

“Yes.” Cassy said. “You can do this.”

Dreya sighed, traces of despair clearly visible in her voice. 

“All right, Cassy.” She looked up and saw the others staring at her. Their faces were full of concern, and she momentarily cursed herself for crying in front of them.  _ It’s time to come back. _

Tamox watched as Dreya stood up, wobbling slightly and then regaining her balance

“Tamox, get your pack. It’s time to go.” she muttered coldly, a rage taking her as she stormed out the doors of the Hall.

“Wait!” Kieral cried. “Will you not remain for dinner?”

Dreya halted. “Go get my pack and give the letter and my regrets to your parents.” Kieral nodded and dashed off. She returned shortly and handed the pack to Dreya.

“I hope you heal.” she said.

“Farewell, Kieral.” Dreya said. She turned, Cassy on her shoulder, and vanished into the woods. Tamox followed after a final glance backward.

“Goodbye!” Saela cried. “I hope to see you again soon!”

There was no reply.

* * *

“Didn’t you say you had to get home?”

Cassy winced at Dreya’s words.

“I… I want to help you.” she said haltingly. “You’re in a lot of pain.”

The queen was silent, pressing ahead through the underbrush. She had ignored the trees, taking the long way home presumably out of rage, and the pace she chose was grueling to Tamox and the Quirlwing on his shoulder.

“She’s going to kill herself trying to get back.” Cassy whispered. “You have to stop her.” 

Tamox gulped and looked at Dreya storming on ahead of them. “You’re right,” he whispered, “but if I tackle her she’s going to kill me.”

“I know,” the Quirlwing agreed, “but we have to do  _ something _ .”

But then Dreya herself chose to end their fears, stopping in her tracks so suddenly that Tamox nearly crashed into her.

“What is it?” he asked in a low voice. He knew that stance. It was the same one that she took when she knocked Cassy out of the tree. 

She shot a look at him.  _ Not now. _

He gave her a confused look, but realized what she was on edge about when there was a rustling in the trees beside them. A noise like footsteps grew louder and louder, but then abruptly stopped.

Dreya glared. “I know you’re there!” she cried. “And if you step out slowly, I won’t kill you. Yet.”

“It’s good to hear a voice that isn’t filled with hatred,” a muffled voice answered, “but who are you?” 

“Step out slowly and I will tell you.” the queen growled. The bushes parted and a person emerged. It was a woman clad in ebony traveling garb with durable boots. She was roughly Dreya’s height, with hair the color of pitch and hard, suspicious grey eyes. Her dark clothing hid a powerful build, and Tamox guessed it was from fighting, though she bore no weapons save a sword. He relaxed as he realized she was Ilviren. The woman wouldn’t hurt them. She was on their side. The others, however, didn’t seem to ease up at all. Dreya eyed the newcomer distrustfully, her jaw tense with grief.

“Who are you?” she demanded. She wasn’t ready to trust anyone too readily with Anshi dead. Meeting this woman in the middle of the forest seemed  _ wrong _ somehow. Furthering her unease was the fact that the stranger hadn’t responded, but was eyeing the three of them darkly. Tamox thought he saw something on her forehead flash silver for one moment, but it disappeared from his vision. Dreya put one hand on her hip, narrowing her eyes at the newcomer. 

“I asked you a question.” she said. “Who are you?” The other elf closed her eyes demurely. 

“I am Krysty Anaril.” she announced proudly. Her voice was strong, deeper than Dreya’s but not overly so. “Scout for the Guard. I was told to escort you home?” she continued, raising her eyebrows inquiringly. Dreya looked back at her companions to gauge their reactions to Krysty. Tamox looked pleasant enough, and Dreya wanted to tell him not to trust someone just because they were Ilviren. After all, Kespa was still dangerous. Cassy wore a guarded expression that sized up Krysty from her perch on Tamox’s shoulder. She didn’t look too ready to trust this woman.

“What are you doing out here all alone, milady?” asked Krysty.

“Going home.” Dreya said. “I know the way, I don’t need an escort.” She turned and stalked off into the trees.

“Touchy, isn’t she?” Krysty asked.

“It’s not her fault.” Cassy said.

“Her friend’s dead.” Tamox said. “She just found out.”

“Tamox!” Cassy snapped, rolling her eyes. “She’s not  _ dead. _ Well… not really.”

“How can someone be not really dead?”

“It’s… well, she…”

“She disappeared.” Tamox said.

“I see.” Krysty said. “I’m sorry for her loss.”

“It’s destroying her.” Tamox said. “I can see it in her eyes.”

“If it’s so terrible for her, why in the Fates is she going back to Tralnrt?” 

“I…” Cassy began, but she shook her head. “She wants to get revenge.”

“And she’ll do that by…?”

“Starting a war.” Tamox said. 

Krysty laughed tersely. “What good will that do, Highness?”

There was a rustling as Dreya pushed her way back through the trees. “How did you know I was there?”

“You’d never leave without them.” Krysty explained, gesturing to Tamox and Cassy.

Dreya sighed. “What do you propose, Commander Anaril? If war is not the answer, then what?”

Krysty flashed a mocking smile. “Kespa’s taken your friend, am I correct?”

Dreya nodded.

“Then, if I may ask, what is the purpose of going to war against her – ”

“What do you mean,  _ what is the  _ – !”

“Why fight if you can  _ retrieve _ ?” Krysty finished.

Dreya stopped, brow furrowed as she processed the suggestion.

“R-retrieve?” she finally asked.

“Retrieve.” the commander affirmed. “Why start a war to get back what’s reachable with a simple rescue?” A pair of thin, arched eyebrows narrowed over two grey eyes that bored into Dreya, adding intensity to Krysty’s words. “If you let me, I can help you.” she intoned, almost commanding Dreya to accept her with a voice that bordered on hypnotic. “I can help you get revenge.” 

Dreya stiffened. If there had been a spell, it was certainly broken now. 

“What could I gain from this… rescue?”

“Well,” Krysty said, “there is that little matter of peace. Sneak in, steal back your friend, sneak out. If we do it right, Kespa won’t even know we’re there.”

“Really.” Dreya answered, arms crossed. She wasn’t sure she believed how easy it sounded.

“I don’t think that we should.” a voice said in her ear, almost like her conscience. Dreya turned to see Cassy hovering by her head. 

“I know.” she answered, moving away to converse quietly with the Quirlwing. “Call me crazy, but something about her doesn’t feel right. She nearly hypnotized me with that voice of hers, and her eyes just burn right into you.” Cassy nodded, and then she jerked her head over her shoulder. 

“We may have trouble.”

Tamox was standing nearby, conversing with Krysty. It was obvious to Dreya that if there had been any sort of hypnosis cast by the newcomer, he had fallen right into it and was fast sinking. He was talking animatedly, with an attitude that was almost casual. The conversation must have come to an end then, because he turned to Dreya and Cassy with a determined look. 

“We should go!” he insisted. The other two shared distrustful looks. “Dreya, come on!” he cried. “If we go, when we get there Krysty and I can guide you!”

“‘ _ Krysty and I _ ?’” Dreya cried. “Now she knows the inside of Kespa’s sanctum?”

“Not directly.” Krysty reassured her. “We’ve intercepted spies, constructed basic maps, and have done basic simulations of attacks. I know a small amount, but with Tamox’s help we could make a clean getaway.”

Dreya looked back at Tamox bemusedly. 

“What makes you think I’d trust you as a guide? If we go – and I’m  _ not _ saying that we are – how do I know you won’t lead us to the prisons instead?” 

He glared back at her. “Very funny. Thankfully Krysty and I together can figure it out.” 

There was no change in Dreya’s face. Obviously she wasn’t that easily convinced. Fighting his friend’s disapproving look, he tried once more. 

“I know we can, Dreya!” She had to agree! Now was his chance to finally be of use and not just slow everyone down. 

Dreya shook her head, but the motion grew slower and slower. It seemed she was coming around. Krysty narrowed her eyes, focusing in on the young queen. Dreya thought she glimpsed a flash of silver cross the soldier’s forehead, but upon another glance it was gone.  _ Must have been a reflection or something.  _ She closed her eyes for a few seconds, and then finally gave an exasperated sigh. 

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea…but you’ve talked me into it.”

Tamox grinned. 

“Now,” she said, “how in the flames do we get there?” 

Now it was Krysty’s turn to grin. “Milady,” she said, “you wouldn’t happen to have a map, would you?”


	7. Serpent in the Rain

Dreya walked after Krysty as she led them through the forest. Again and again she ran through what had happened earlier; and again and again she came up with the same conclusion:  _ How could I have been so stupid? _

If Melane found out, or Valeria – fates, if Valeria knew, Dreya would never see the throne again.  _ I’m putting everyone in jeopardy, and for what? Revenge! _

She caught sight of Tamox, who somehow managed to keep pace with the party and had the largest smile Dreya had ever seen plastered across his face.  _ Oh, well. _ she thought miserably.  _ At least he’s happy. _

About two hours into the hike, Tamox caught up to Dreya’s swift stride and asked her what had been on his mind for some time: 

“Dreya, are you all right? You don’t seem too happy.”

“Happy? Hah!” Dreya snapped.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing.” she said. “Only my best friend’s missing, and now I’m going to save her without a word to anyone back home, and I don’t even know Krysty!”

“If she can help you free Anshi - !”

“Anshi’s  _ dead _ by now, Tamox!” Dreya cried, turning on him with a vengeance. “Kespa  _ never _ keeps captives alive!”

“But how – ?”

“We’ve lost too many to keep up hope.” Dreya moaned, her eyes sliding shut. “And now I’m out here, without a word to anyone, even Melane.”

“Dreya, it’s fine.” Tamox said. “I’m sure we can get word to Melane.”

“How, Tamox?” Cassy commented. She’d been perched on Dreya’s shoulder; thus far she’d been a silent observer to what had been going on. “How are we supposed to get word to them? We’re hours away, with no one to carry a message. The traveling spell’s beyond us, and there’s nothing we can do.”

“ _ Exactly. _ ” Dreya said, lowering her voice to a despairing whisper. “I’m alone out here. My people are vulnerable without me. And I don’t know Krysty that well.”

“She claims to have been stationed deeper in the forest, you’ve probably never crossed paths before.”

“True,” Dreya admitted, “but I don’t trust easily. And her  _ eyes _ …”

“Is everything alright?”

Krysty had stopped and glanced back at the clustered party.

“Everything’s fine.” Dreya said, turning to face her.

“You sure? The argument was getting a little heated.”

Dreya didn’t answer.

“May we stop for the night?” Tamox asked. “I’m getting a little sleepy.” He punctuated this last sentence with a yawn.

Krysty nodded. “This way.” she said. “There’s a clearing up ahead.”

She slid into the trees ahead. Dreya, with one last look back, pushed her pack up high on her back and followed into the fading light.

* * *

The clearing was the perfect resting place, well-sheltered but with an unhampered view upwards. The sky turned from blue to crimson to indigo as Dreya built a fire, and Krysty volunteered to take the whole watch that night. 

“You need your sleep.” she said, looking pointedly in the queen’s direction. 

_ I don’t like her _ . Dreya thought as she settled into her bedroll and blanket.  _ She challenges me, even if it isn’t a direct threat. Something isn’t right _ .

Even though she was exhausted, she found that sleep didn’t come easily. As the elf-maid tossed and turned, she found herself thinking back to her childhood, and to the nights that she and Anshi had spent in the throne room, hiding from Melane.  _ No. Don’t think about Anshi. No _ . There was too much pain there, too much regret. 

_ But why? _ she thought.  _ Why do I have to be queen? Everyone I know, even the people I pass on the street, is in danger because of me! I can’t protect everyone. I can’t even protect my sister. _ Grief and rage welled up inside of her, threatening to take control, and she wept acrid tears into her blanket. Somehow, the release of emotion calmed her, and she let sleep sweep her away at last.

* * *

_ Darkness greeted Dreya as she opened her eyes. There was nothing before her, but she could hear someone crying. It took a moment to realize that it was her own voice echoing in the black. She glanced down and felt alien terror seize her, though what it was that she saw was a mystery. _

* * *

“But it makes more sense to cut straight through!”

“No. There’s a Myrl encampment in our path. We have to go around!” 

_ What? _

Dreya woke slowly this morning, a tree root boring into her side as she returned to consciousness. There was clearly an argument in progress, and the voices gave her something to focus on as she cleared her head. _Did I have a dream? I can’t remember, but it feels like I have…_ _maybe I’ve finally gotten that Foresight Melane hoped for_. _If so, it gave me nothing but a headache._

“I warned you this would happen. I  _ told  _ you so!”

“How was I supposed to know? They move around, they could be from anywhere!”

“Um, could you be quiet? Dreya’s trying to sleep, and, um, if you’re too loud it’ll be – ”

“Too late, Tamox.” Dreya cut in.

“Dreya!” Tamox cried. “You’re awake!”

“And very sore.” she said. “What’s the situation?”

Almost immediately Krysty and Cassy began talking simultaneously. 

“She’s not listening!”

“I knew what I was doing!”

“We need to turn back!”

“We can deal with them if we just move quickly!”

Dreya raised her hands in surrender. 

“Alright, alright!”

The noise just grew louder, and finally the queen could take it no longer.

“ _ Stop it! _ ” she screamed.

Both Krysty and Cassy fell silent, struck dumb by her outburst.

“Now will someone  _ please _ tell me what is going on? Slowly. I’m not in the best of moods. And  _ no  _ interrupting.”

Cassy cleared her throat and began to speak.

“Well, I was up earlier and decided to do some scouting around. And, well, I found out we’re not exactly  _ alone. _ ”

“Excuse me?” Dreya asked. “Not exactly alone? What does ‘not exactly’ mean?”

“It  _ means _ that there’s an encampment of Myrl not three leagues from where we stand.” Krysty cut in. “But we’ve nothing to worry about. After all, Myrl are easy to kill.”

“Maybe when in a squadron of the Guard and surrounded by allies.” Dreya answered, sitting up and massaging her head. “But I’ve got a pain in my head that won’t go away, Tamox is worthless in any kind of fight, and Cassy’s not cut out for battle. So there’s just you.”

“Fine.” Krysty said. “I’ll go it alone.”

Dreya moved to her knees, gradually getting out of her bedroll.

“Are you  _ insane _ ?” she exclaimed. “Myrl are easy to kill, I’ll grant you that. But they take prisoners. And all of us know too much to afford that. The answer’s no, Krysty. You are  _ not  _ fighting these Myrl alone.”

“What?” Krysty cried. “It would be  _ easy _ , milady! A few minutes at the most!”

“And what would those minutes cost?” Dreya shot back. “A few drops of blood? A leg? A life? We can’t afford to have anyone injured with me in this condition – oh, this  _ cursed  _ pain! Flames take it all!” Dreya had begun to rise up, but the pain sent her back to her knees.

“I – I can’t… Tamox, help me up, would you?”

Tamox rushed to the side of his comrade, helping her to her feet.

“We have to go around.” she said, her breath rasping in her throat. Her flat tone left no room for argument, and even Krysty seemed to be swayed.

“I… I can’t fight them now.”

* * *

The journey continued silently, with no one feeling as though speech was necessary. To her distress, Dreya spent most of the morning hanging onto Tamox’s arm and rejecting all offers of food or rest.

“We have to get as far as we can.” she moaned. “Krysty? Are you sure you know the way?”

The soldier nodded. “We’ll have to take a slight detour, but I’ll have us back on track shortly.”

“And what sort of ‘short detour’ is this?” Dreya asked.

“Just a brief step through a bog. We should be through it by tomorrow, though.”

“Lovely.” Cassy muttered to no one in particular. “I  _ hate  _ bogs.”

She was unheard by nearly all her comrades.

* * *

Krysty ran them long and hard the first half of the day, insisting on pushing through the swamps as fast as possible.

“Can we maybe take a rest?” Tamox asked. “Dreya’s not looking well.”

“I’m… fine.” Dreya gasped, staggering behind. “Go on, I’ll catch up.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Krysty said, turning back to the elven-queen. “Of course you can’t go on. We’ll rest here.”

Tamox looked reluctantly at the dead grass and squelching soil and shivered. This place didn’t  _ feel  _ right – perhaps it was simply that he’d spent his entire life under trees. It seemed so open in this bog, with the sun and clouds clearly visible.

“I don’t like this.” Cassy said, almost as if she could read his mind. “It’s too exposed here.”

“We aren’t to the other side of the bog yet.” Krysty said. “We’ve got maybe five, six hours to go. And that’s if we keep this pace up. If not… well, let’s just say we’ll be here a lot longer than any of us want.”

“I feel almost naked.” Cassy commented, looking distrustfully at the sun. “I  _ need  _ the trees.” She was perched on Tamox’s shoulder, and she slowly began to rock back and forth, her eyes slipping shut. “I need them I need them I need them I need them.”

“Hey.” Tamox said, tapping her on the shoulder. “Pull it together, Cassy. We’ll get to the trees soon.”

“Can we all shut up?” commented Dreya from where she’d settled on the ground. “Some of us  _ are  _ trying to sleep.”

“I hope you’re successful.” Krysty said. “After all, I’m the only one here used to the open sky.”

She was definitely right about that. Dreya, who’d spent the most time in the forest out of the remaining three, finally dropped off after concealing her head beneath a cloak provided by Krysty. Tamox fidgeted as the sun slowly returned to the horizon, and Cassy spent the hours huddled under a shrub and moaning for the woods.

As sunset drew near, Tamox took Dreya’s bow and tried to shoot the few fish that dwelt in the pools of slime nearby, but his attempts all ended in failure. 

“It’s a pity, too.” he said morosely. “They were huge.” 

“Those are carp!” Cassy cried after about five arrows had been lost. With twilight upon them, she felt brave enough to emerge from her thorny hideaway.

“So?” he asked. The Quirlwing moaned and fluttered over to his shoulder. 

“Tamox, carp aren’t for eating!” 

Tamox froze. 

“Oh.”

Behind them, Krysty smacked her forehead into her palm and sighed.

Dinner was simple, bread and the last of the salted meat that Tamox had packed. He didn’t dare touch Dreya’s food. Krysty built a fire as night fell, and bedded down opposite the sleeping queen. Cassy, without a tree to roost in and unwilling to sleep amidst thorns, gathered up a pile of fern, moss, and grasses and promptly went to sleep after forming a nest. Tamox slid into his bedroll and dropped off almost immediately afterward. All was quiet, and as the remainder of the travelers went to bed exhausted, everyone conveniently forgot that nobody was keeping watch.

* * *

_ Dreya’s mind cleared a little in sleep, just enough to let in a dream. Four hawks soared through a clear blue sky together, almost as if they were on a quest to find something. One hawk was a redtail, with clear eyes and a powerful wingspan. The second was just slightly smaller and blue-grey with a speckled underbelly, and the third and fourth were goshawks. Suddenly, without warning, the blue hawk morphed into some other kind of bird. Its wings tapered at the end, its beak curved, and it pulled away from the flock to dive at the redtail. Dreya realized suddenly that the impostor wasn’t a hawk at all-it was a falcon on the hunt.  _

* * *

“DREYA!” 

The scream echoed through the night like the peals of an alarm bell. 

Dreya’s eyes flew open as she realized her foolishness and cursed herself inwardly for it.  _ Even if my head was killing me, I should have reminded them to keep watch. _ Funny, her headache was gone now.

Grabbing her sword from its place by her head, the queen drew it as she rose to her feet, using her right shoulder and arm as a springboard to catapult herself to her feet. The fire had died to a few small embers, but luckily the moon was bright enough to see what was happening. Krysty, Tamox, and Cassy were locked in combat with something. Dreya couldn’t see what it was, but it appeared to have slithered out off the pool that they were camped by. It was long and snakelike, with an angular head, though no limbs or wings were visible. She couldn’t tell what color it was as she charged for it, sword held high, but when it noticed her, its eyes seemed to glow violet for a moment before returning to their previous color of a dull crimson.

* * *

Tamox was trapped. He was the only helpless member of the group, as he had neither Ilviren agility nor Cassy’s wings. He was also grounded and weaponless, so instinct commanded the monster to focus on him. It curved its body downward, bringing its enormous head on a level with him. He didn’t see any limbs or wings, but it didn’t seem to have trouble moving around. In fact, it was coming straight for him. 

He stumbled backward, raising his arms as if to form a defensive barrier, but it was useless. The thing kept coming. Then, just as the sharp pain of the monster’s teeth sank into his arm, something hit him hard and knocked him out of the way.

It was Dreya.

“You  _ idiot. _ ” she growled, her face inches from his own. “What were you  _ doing _ ?”

“I-I’m s-sorry!” Tamox cried, his combined fear of the creature and fear of Dreya’s wrath beginning to take its toll. “I don’t have anything to fight with, Dreya!”

“Then  _ get out  _ and  _ stay out of my way _ !” she screamed as she pushed herself up off of him, gripping her sword with both hands. Tamox propped himself up on his elbows, watching her as she ran to attack.

The creature beheld Dreya with bestial calm. Its eyes glowed violet again, as if it recognized a new threat. The pitiful attempts by the other woman meant nothing, and were easily countered by a thrashing movement of the midsection. 

Krysty cried out as she was thrown clear, and Cassy flew to her side in an attempt to assist her. The creature cared nothing for them. Only this singular threat existed, and she must die. She would die. The girl may have had a sword and bow, but it had another weapon, a far more powerful one.

Dreya looked upwards in shock as the creature drew itself up, now towering high above her head. Its eyes glowed a fiery red as it tilted its own head down, opened its mouth, and spat violet flame down at the queen. 

She barely had time to turn; the fire singed the back of her dress as she twisted out of the way. Angry, she turned her evasive movement into an attack, using her quick dodge to launch herself into a spin that sent her hurling at the monster. Sword whirling above her head, she attacked from below, lashing out against the creature’s body.

The dragon serpent was angry. It hadn’t expected the girl to behave this way, and when her sword lodged in its side it realized that she should be taken seriously. Thankfully a simple twitch was all it needed to shake off the girl.

The thrashing pulled Dreya’s sword free, but she was unwilling to release her weapon and held on tightly. The momentum from the jerking motion sent her out into the night, and she landed in one of the bog’s many pools of slime.

Tamox heard the splash from his hiding place by Cassy’s bush. He looked up to see Dreya flailing in the mire

“Cassy!” he cried, leaping to his feet and running towards the trapped queen.

The Quirlwing slid from Krysty’s side to meet him as the other woman picked up her sword and charged again.

“Dreya’s out there!” Tamox said, pointing to where their friend struggled not to sink. Cassy bit her lip, but she nodded and flew out over the queen’s head.

“We’re coming! Hold on!” he called, though he wasn’t sure that they could help.

“There!” Cassy pointed. “See?”

Tamox looked up. There, stretched out over the muck, was an ancient tree. It had sunk deeper and deeper with each passing year, and now it lay nearly flat and its branches reached down to the slime’s surface.

“We’re coming!” he cried, hoping Dreya could hear him. He ran to the tree, doing his best to skirt the exposed roots. “Cassy! Fly out and get her sword!”

The Quirlwing obeyed, seizing the blade from Dreya’s slick hand. The weight was more than she expected, but it wasn’t enough to pull her down. She landed in the springy moss, gasping as she watched Krysty fight.

Tamox was above the bog now, and he locked eyes with Dreya as she fought to survive. The young queen’s head was just barely above the slime now, her eyes revealing previously unknown fear and terror. Tamox crawled out to the farthest branch, his arm hanging down as the old oak creaked beneath his weight. 

“Come on!” he called down to Dreya. “Take my hand!” Dreya raised her arm up as far as she could, but it wasn’t enough. Their fingers were still inches apart. 

“I…can’t…” she choked, spitting up mud. 

“Don’t you dare give up!” he cried in response. Then, he felt the branch he was on slowly begin to crack. “Reach!” he called out desperately. Dreya reached up one final time and barely managed to brush his fingertips with her own hand…just as the tree gave out and fell with Tamox into the bog.

Tamox felt panic seize him as he grasped Dreya’s hand moments before the falling branch he held on to crashed into the slime alongside her. Struggling, he managed to right himself and move closer to her, their hands still entwined. He coughed as mud filled his mouth-but luckily it was only a small amount, and was easily spat out. 

_ What should I do? _ he thought frantically, looking around for a way out, anything at all that might be used. Then he saw it-the tree. Though the twisted oak was sinking into the mire, its roots were still partially buried in the silt-ridden sod of dry land.  _ Got to make it… _ he thought frantically as he pushed, swam, and struggled to reach out…

… and then his hand snagged a branch. 

Pulling with all of his strength, Tamox yanked both himself and Dreya clear of the bog. They ran up the tree, leaping onto the banks just as the old oak’s roots gave out and the tree vanished with a creak into the mud and slime. Dreya didn’t say a word of thanks; she just grabbed her sword from Cassy and ran for the creature.

Dreya’s whole mind was focused on victory. She didn’t feel the pain of her shoulder that had been dislocated when she had been thrown into the bog, or the slippery sensation of the mud on her skin. All that she knew was that she had to win. Running towards Krysty and the creature, she leapt into the air.

Tamox was brushing the stickier mud off of his shirt when he was distracted by a gasp from Cassy. 

“She’s going for the head!” 

Turning his head, he saw Dreya leap onto the thing’s back next to Krysty. Then, he too had to gasp in admiration as she lithely climbed up the thrashing, serpentine monster, using the ridge of spines down its back as an aid. 

“She’s good.” he admitted. “But now I can really see it.”

Krysty jumped clear of the beast as Dreya made her attack, coming to a stop next to the two exhausted friends.

“I hope she knows what she’s doing.” the woman sighed.

“She does.” Cassy said softly. “At least, I  _ think _ so.”

Dreya pulled herself up, using the horns on the creature’s head to steady herself. It thrashed violently, threatening to shake her off, but she would not be beaten. Not now. 

“This one’s for Mayara.” she whispered to the serpentine thing, raising her sword high above her head, point facing the top of the monster’s head. Then, closing her eyes, Dreya plunged her longsword into the creature’s skull.

The creature thrashed and fought, coils convulsing in agony, shaking Krysty off of its back and throwing the woman to the ground. On its head, Dreya slipped and almost fell off, grabbing her sword at the last possible second. But it would not give up now, even though it knew death was near. It felt the girl stand again on its skull, leaning on the sword, shoving it deeper. 

“This one’s for  _ Mayara _ !” she repeated, throwing all her weight on the gleaming blade. 

The creature died then, its ears ringing with that cry. It shuddered as it perished, screaming in defeat. And, far away, the power that drove it screamed as well, crying out in rage as a chilling rain began to stream down on the victorious four.

* * *

Kespa sat in her study, head in her left hand. The mental screams and the pounding had lessened through the night, but morning brought little relief from the pain of her dragon serpent’s death. The Medallion had made it so she controlled it and its senses, merging with it and almost becoming it, making that sword just as painful to her as it had been to her pitiful hybrid.  _ At least I don’t control the Myrl that way. _ Kespa thought wryly. The past night’s defeat continued to frustrate and enrage her, her powers proving worthless against this…this child. How could this child, a girl not even fully mature, have countered the near-boundless powers of the Medallion? When she’d received word of this waif’s hope of revenge, she’d almost laughed. Trying to find her fortress for something as immature as a rescue? It had to be a joke. Indeed, there had been a grand total of  _ fifty  _ attempts to locate the queen’s sanctum for one reason or another, and all had failed. So of course, the child would too. 

But then the serpent had died. 

And Kespa’s opinion of this girl had changed for good. 

But who was she? Kespa knew next to nothing of her; the time of contact with the source was painfully brief. The only certainty was her name, Dreya. It was also said she was traveling with a Quirlwing and Tamox, which had brought a smirk to the queen. Tamox had been a failure, he’d be no help to anyone. Especially not a little girl bent on saving her pathetic friend.

“Alright, Dreya. Time for you and I to get acquainted.” Kespa muttered, closing her eyes and focusing on the name, her free hand clenching around the Medallion. Yet, just as the mental image of Dreya and her companions began to snap into focus, something blurred the picture again and it vanished into black oblivion. Kespa growled in frustration and slammed the heel of her right hand into the study table, letting the Medallion drop with a hollow clack. 

“ _ What  _ is going on?” she moaned. This made no sense. She’d tortured countless facts about the Medallion from her prisoners. She’d torn through her library six times in a search for more. There was nothing left that should explain why this Dreya was able to block all surveillance. And just who  _ was  _ Dreya? An elf?  _ There has to be  _ something… 

Wait. There was. She’d heard the name Dreya once before, long ago. It had been whispered by a deposed queen as she lay stunned on the ground before Kespa’s sword. Words that, at the time, she’d only ignored. Words that now haunted her.

_ “Dreya …our only hope…”  _

“Of _course._ ” Kespa stood, the Medallion clenched in her hand. She turned and left the library, headed for her personal suite and, most importantly, the mirror therein. The trip was short, just a few steps to the staircase leading to her tower, but the usurper took them at a run. She reached her private chambers and threw the doors open, her anger manifesting in a scowl that was directed at the tall looking-glass.

“ _ Who is she? _ ” Kespa roared at the mirror. There was only silence in response, but she didn’t care.

“Who is she, you witch? Who is Dreya?”

* * *

When Dreya woke, she felt a raw pain in her shoulder and side. Groaning, she rolled over and examined her right arm. With resolute satisfaction, she saw that there had been no external damage save an ugly purplish bruise. Realizing what had happened; she sighed and looked to the slate-grey sky as if to plead for a bit of luck. __

_Dislocated? Really? Now? I thought it snapped back into place. I must have popped it back out when I nearly fell off that monster._ _If only I had been more careful._

_ But, _ her mind seemed to say,  _ no time for that. _ She was the first one up, and the precious minutes alone should be spent in healing. 

Sitting up, Dreya moved to her pack and opened it. Inside, a food pouch, a water skin, their map, and a coil of rope were neatly packed. She smiled with grim satisfaction and pulled out the rope with her good arm. Picking up her sword, which she had wiped clean of the creature’s gore before sheathing it to protect it from the steely rain that fell in the night, the girl uncoiled the rope and cut off a short piece. 

Tying one end to the wrist of her injured arm, Dreya looked about for something to tie the other end to. Her gaze roved over the small area of rock that they had slept (and fought and killed) on during the previous night. Around the edges of the rock, a narrow strip of sod and soil ran, with a few dead grasses growing on it. She saw the roots of the old oak that had saved her poking out from one of the surrounding pools and shuddered, remembering the feel of the mud and grime closing over her head. At last, her eyes fell upon what she was looking for- a small, sturdy bush. The bush, only about two feet tall, was springy and had durable, scrubby branches. 

Dreya reached down with her good arm, found the main stem of the plant, and jerked with all of her strength. The shrub gave a bit, and then pulled back with a kick that nearly knocked her over.  _ Good _ . The elven-queen bent down and tied the free end of the rope to the main stem of the bush. After checking to ensure that it was tight, she stood up, turned around, braced her back leg against the springy turf underfoot, and then started running with a speed that would have outpaced an eagle if she had wanted it to. Of course, the slack on the four-foot rope quickly ran out, but she kept running. 

The springy little bush followed and then kicked backward, jerking Dreya over but rewarding her with a pop and a sharp pain in her right side as she fell to the ground. Gritting her teeth, she cut herself free with her sword and then swung the weapon about with her injured arm, testing it to ensure that it would hold up to whatever this day brought.

Tamox woke up about five minutes after Dreya’s healing-by-bush. Opening his eyes, he groaned to see her already packed and sitting not ten feet from him, eating whatever she had put in her food pouch. 

“What’s the situation?” he groaned, trying in vain to keep his eyes open. 

“Well, we’re in the middle of a huge bog chasing after a murderous maniac, and we’re probably all at least a little hurt, and rain is in the immediate future. On the bright side, we’re alive, and we still have food and water.” 

Tamox groaned and tried to go back to sleep. Dreya didn’t look particularly graceful and wise this morning, since the front of her dress was soaked in blood, mud, and monster remains, but her alertness suggested that her head was better. He realized that his attempts to return to slumber would only prolong the inevitable shove out of bed, so he rolled onto the wet rock with a dejected sigh.

“Better get packed.” Dreya told him with a glance into the slate colored sky. “No sun today, so I want to get a move on.” She shoved her pack up higher onto her back, and then turned to the place where the carcass of the creature had rested the night before. “I think that we should push this thing into the…what?” 

Before her were the signs of the previous night’s battle – the ground was trampled and torn, and the old tree had nearly vanished into the bog – but the carcass of the creature was gone. She darted to where its body had been, but there was no sign of her handiwork to be found. That disconcerted her deeply. Even the Myrl left some trace of their existence when they died, so why had this thing simply vanished? 

There was no time to ponder it now. The main objective for today was simply to carry on.  _ I’ll ask Cassy about it later, maybe she’s got an idea of what happened. She seems unnaturally perceptive. _

“Tamox,” she said aloud, “perhaps you could help me with something?”

“Yes?” he asked.

Dreya smiled grimly. “We need breakfast before we eat, and the only thing around is fish.”

“Carp, to be exact.” Tamox said. “And you can’t eat carp, can you?”

This was unexpected. 

“No.” Dreya agreed. “No carp. Then that leaves us with… half a loaf of bread, an apple, and… do you have anything left?”

Tamox shook his head. “I ate the last of my cheese last night.”

“Wonderful. As you’ve probably figured out, we didn’t plan to be gone for this long. We should be home by now, but I’m totally lost. Krysty seems to know where we’re going, but I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.”

“It’s good.” Tamox said. “Because if she knows, then she can get us back.”

“But Kespa’s fortress is hidden.” Dreya said. “And how exactly would the Guard know its location? I’d have been the first to be notified about it.”

“Maybe she found it on her own.”

“It can’t be that easy. We’ve mapped out all this forest. It’s our home, after all. And no one’s reported finding anything resembling a hideaway for a queen.”

“Queen?”

“She considers herself our ruler. A foolish sentiment, as none of us would ever obey her.”

“But  _ why _ ?” Tamox pressed. “Life in Tralnrt isn’t that awful for the lower class, what happens if she becomes queen?”

“It’s not about quality of life, it’s about prestige.” Dreya explained. “I don’t know much about her, it’s been assumed that she was just power-mad and stole the Medallion for its magic. But maybe there’s another reason behind it.”

“Maybe.” Tamox agreed. “Shouldn’t we get to work on breakfast?”

“I thought you said there was only carp.”

“We could try to eat it, I don’t see why it won’t work.”

“Fine.” Dreya said, standing up. “I can’t fish, so you’ll have to do this.”

“Wait.” Tamox said. “Let me get this straight - you can’t  _ fish _ ?”

“There aren’t any fish in Tralnrt!”

“Your city’s on a  _ river _ !”

“One devoid of any sort of life! There’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t fish.”

Tamox bit his lip. He wasn’t about to admit he was as clueless as she was. “Well, I’ll just have to do this myself.”

He walked to the nearest pond staring at the shallow water. Sure enough, there was an immense carp, busily feeding off the bottom. He grinned. 

“Now to catch it…”

But exactly how to do that was beyond his expertise. He’d never had to fish before, but they weren’t going to have enough to eat if he didn’t succeed now.

“Maybe if I gave it some bait, it would keep eating and I could pull it out of the water when it’s distracted…”

The only bait in his possession, though, was Dreya’s bread and apple. Not something he wanted to waste.

“I heard a tale once.” Dreya said.

“Not now, please!” Tamox said. “I’m trying to fish!”

Dreya was taken aback. Had he just stood up to her? And cut her off? This was new for him, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it.

“Listen.” she said. “In the tale there were two soldiers who had to survive on their own. One of them used a sharpened stick like a spear and caught fish with it.”

“How?”

“By stabbing at them, I suppose. What else would you do?”

“I need a stick, then.” Tamox said.

“Wha - ?”

Cassy lifted her head from her nest, exhausted from the night before.

“Dreya?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

“Tamox is trying to fish.” the elf replied. “And I don’t know if he’ll succeed or not.”

“What does he need?”

“A stick.” Tamox said. “About  _ this  _ long.” He held out his hands to demonstrate.

“Ohh.” Cassy said. “I can’t help you there.”

“So are we going hungry?”

It was Krysty, who had opened her eyes at last.

“If he can’t find a spear, we’re rather doomed, aren’t we?”

“No, we’ve simply got to find another way.” Dreya said. 

The scout laughed. “Of course. Another way.”

“Dreya,” Cassy said, “what about that tree?”

“What tree?” Tamox asked. Dreya shivered, glancing towards the mudpit behind her.

“That tree.” she said, tilting her head towards the half-submerged oak.

“It might work.” Tamox said, appraising it. “There is a branch, see it there?”

“I’m not going out there.” Dreya said. “Not again.”

“You’re the only one with a sword.” 

“Really?” Krysty commented from her bedroll. “Has everyone forgotten my efforts?”

“Sorry.” Tamox said. “I’d just forgotten about you.”

“How nice.” the soldier commented. “At any rate, you’re welcome to use my sword, Tamox. I’m not willing to get up just yet.”

“Is that so?” Dreya said. “And why not, may I ask? Does her highness have a headache?”

“Don’t be snide.” Krysty said. “As a matter of fact, I  _ do  _ have a headache, but is it my fault? No. As I recall,  _ your  _ actions last night caused that serpent to throw me off. When I landed I struck my head against a rock, and as such my skull is  _ quite _ tender at the moment.”

Dreya felt like screaming, but she sighed and shook her head. “Tamox, if you want her blade, by all means take it. It matters not.”

Tamox sprang up and rushed to Krysty, who pointed out her cloak and sword-belt. Soon the blade was in Tamox’s hand, and he was rushing to the fallen oak.

“Be careful!” Dreya cried. “I don’t want to have to save you too!”

“Don’t worry about it!” Tamox said. “I’ll be fine.”

Krysty’s sword wasn’t the best tool for cutting through wood, but Tamox made the best of it. Soon he had the branch in his hand and was back on solid ground. He then set to removing all peripheral branches, and finally sharpened the end of the wood until it was as sharp as he could get it.

“Here goes.” he said. “Carp, you are MINE!”

He stabbed down into the water, and gave a cry of triumph.

“I got it! I got it! Wait… I don’t. Never mind.”

Cassy giggled. 

“It’s not funny!” Tamox cried. “I’ll try again… yes!” 

This time it seemed as if he was successful. He pulled the spear up, grunting under its weight. “Some help…” he moaned.

Dreya ran to assist. As the spear came out of the water, she saw the captured carp dangling by its tail. 

“The tail?” Krysty muttered. “Isn’t the head better?”

“But I aimed for the head.” Tamox said.

“Maybe it moved.” Cassy reassured, smoothing the argument over.

“Maybe. Does anyone know how to cook carp?”

* * *

Roughly an hour later, they set out for the day. Tamox had attempted to cook the carp over a fire after cutting its head off, and while it wasn’t the most savory meal it did its job admirably. Dreya had been right about the weather - no sooner had they begun to walk than it started to rain. First it was only a thin mist, then a drizzle, and then it poured in a deluge that continued for hours and made it seem as if the clouds had not emptied their cisterns in many an elf’s lifetime. 

Dreya ignored it, pushing ahead through ankle-deep mud as if the weather did not exist. Tamox shivered as he pressed through the bog, for it was cold already and the pouring water made it absolutely frigid. When the others ignored his requests to halt, he dug his blanket out of his pack and wrapped it around himself. This made it easier, and his complaints ceased. Krysty produced a cloak from somewhere and wrapped it around her dark clothing, walking sullenly without a comment. 

The rain had been hardest on Cassy. With her feathers wet and waterlogged, she was unable to fly. Even though she had been able to tell her companions the right direction to take that morning, the Quirlwing spent the majority of the march shivering, miserable, and silent on Dreya’s shoulder.

Dreya suddenly stopped after they had marched for about five hours. She tossed her head back, scattering raindrops from her hair all over Tamox, and then she put a hand to her brow and focused her teal elven eyes on a grey smudge some distance away, barely visible through the rain. A thrill of relief flew through her as she realized what it was, and she turned back to her three companions with something in her eyes that was almost akin to excitement. 

“That smudge up ahead is the end of this bog.” she said. Tamox almost smiled as he sighed forlornly, Krysty looked a little less sullen but still did not speak, and Cassy shivered painfully and said nothing, though she did ruffle her wing feathers a bit and looked out towards the smudge with hope in her huge grey eyes.

Despite the misery of the days before, this day brought one thing positive – and oddly enough, it was the rain. While the water brought cold, depression, and silence, it also served as a cleanser, washing the last of the grime from Dreya’s hair and face, and cleaning everyone else up a little. Even with these advantages, the travelers were glad to finally return to the turf they knew best-the woodlands. Dreya had been right-the smudge had been a line of trees. After a few more silent minutes, the foursome finally left the soggy, desolate bog behind them and returned to the forest. 

Tamox stowed his blanket in his pack once more, with the forest both warmer and drier than the open bog, Krysty put her cloak back wherever it came from, Dreya wrung out her hair and dried herself with her blanket, and Cassy immediately sprang off of her shoulder and into the nearest tree. A low branch bounced as she landed, and for a moment it looked as if the Quirlwing would lose her balance and fall, but she clawed the branch and managed to regain her perch. 

Ruffling her feathers and fur and chattering happily, Cassy sent a shower of icy water droplets into the faces of her companions, much to their chagrin. 

“Hey!” Dreya cried, throwing up her arms to take the brunt of the freezing deluge. Tamox ducked, barely avoiding the freezing missiles that ended up hitting Krysty right in the face. However, the water dripping off of him had soaked the forest floor beneath him, and his dodge turned into a slip and ended unceremoniously on the ground in a wet heap. Dreya had turned her head to shield it from the icy water, but she managed to see Tamox involuntarily soak the other elf of the party. He looked up at a very wet and very perturbed Krysty, utter terror in his face as he imagined a swift (and painful) retaliation from the warrior. His expression was enough to send Dreya and Cassy into fits of laughter. 

“What?” he asked defensively, trying in vain to cover up his error and praying that Krysty wasn’t going to hit him too hard.

“It’s your face!” Dreya cried, holding her sides as she tried to get control of her mirth. 

“You looked as if you had run into another Myrl.” Cassy explained from her tree branch, still giggling as she choked out the words. Dreya coughed forcefully in an attempt to stifle her laughter and walked over to Tamox, offering him her hand. He grabbed it, and she pulled him up and to his feet. 

“Now,” Dreya continued, turning from him to Krysty, who had dried herself off. “Where do we go from here?” Krysty took a good look at her surroundings, and then closed her eyes in thought. After about five minutes, the elf opened her eyes, snapped up her head, and pointed in a generally northward direction. 

“We need to head that way.” Krysty answered. 

“Well, we’d better move. Kespa won’t wait for us.” Dreya said. Turning to the tree, she called up to Cassy. “We need to move now. Are you coming?” Cassy didn’t respond, but leapt lightly from her tree branch, sending it into a frenzied, swaying dance. Instead of using her wings to slow her fall, she landed hard on Dreya’s pack, slipped downwards, dug in her claws to stop herself, and climbed to her usual position on Dreya’s left shoulder.

The continuing march was uneventful and quiet, with no sign of Myrl. The forest, however, had changed slightly. It was rockier and inclined, with pine trees being predominant instead of the deciduous oaks and beeches that had dominated the parts of the forest that the travelers knew well. Because of the more difficult terrain, there were few conversations, until Tamox decided to break the silence. Running up to walk alongside of Dreya, he began to talk. 

“Dreya, can I ask you something?” 

“No.” Not one to be deterred, he pressed on. 

“Please?”

“Oh, fine. What is it?” Tamox looked down and remained silent, afraid to ask. “What is it?” Dreya asked again, her voice dangerously tight. 

“Is there any chance that I could have some kind of weapon?” 

“WHAT?” Tamox took a step back. Dreya had stopped walking to stare at him incredulously. 

“Could I have a weapon?” 

“NO! You, armed with a weapon? I know that as surely as I stand here now, I would live to regret it. What would you do with it?” 

“Defend myself.” answered Tamox, attempting to imitate the way that Dreya talked to him when he was being especially slow-witted. 

“You would do more damage to us then the enemy would!”

“Just give me a chance!” Tamox pleaded, remembering the paralyzed feeling that had seized him when he had been attacked by the monster from the night before. Dreya sighed, turning her head to Cassy with a last hopeless look at Tamox. The two of them had a whispered conference, and finally they turned back to their friend, neither looking particularly pleased at the way that things had turned out. 

“We have decided to give you a chance.” Cassy stated.

“YES!” Tamox cried, jumping up and down in joy. 

“ONE chance only.” Dreya continued, frustration creeping into her voice. “You will get a weapon.” Tamox didn’t hear them, too busy celebrating his victory

“YES YES YES!!!!!” 

“GET CONTROL OF YOURSELF!!!” Dreya cried. This outburst immediately quieted Tamox. Dreya slipped off her pack, bent down with it, and dug in a side pouch for something. At last, she drew out an elaborately carved knife with a wooden hilt. The sheath was leather, and it had ornamental designs scratched into it. Dreya presented the knife to Tamox with a flourish. 

“This was given to me by Anshi. I am entrusting it to you, so TAKE CARE OF IT. This is your chance. Use it well.” Dreya closed up her pack, slung it over her shoulders, and set off into the forest once again.

On the inside, Cassy found it hard to believe what they had done. She and Dreya had agreed to give TAMOX a knife. This was the same Tamox who had frozen in terror when they had been attacked. This was the same Tamox that Dreya had needed to save – not just once or twice, but  _ five  _ times - from death, starvation, loneliness, embarrassment, and dishonesty.

This was the person now holding a deadly weapon.

Cassy swore under her breath. Sometimes the forest just had a way of throwing failure right back in your face.

* * *

Tamox could hardly believe his luck. Just when he wanted something horribly, Dreya finally found enough grace to grant his wish!!  _ If only she was this way all the time. _ Tamox thought wistfully as he strolled lazily through the pines with a dreamy smile on his face, imagining the things he could do with a weapon. Krysty was walking beside him, and her gaze fell on his knife. 

“Yours?” she asked surprisedly, seemingly impressed by the weapon. 

“No. It’s on loan from Dreya.” Tamox corrected her smartly. “It was given to her by her best friend before she died, and now she’s giving it to me!!” Krysty raised her eyebrows, further accentuating their natural arch. 

“Who’s her best friend?” 

“Her name was…um, uhh…” Tamox hesitated with fearful anticipation in his eyes, finally looked furtively at Dreya in front after a long pause, and then turned back to Krysty and whispered into her ear. 

“Anshi Hitaro…” he murmured softly, then pulled back quickly and kept walking as if nothing had happened. 

“Very interesting.” Krysty muttered, and then a smile that had an almost cruel quality to it crept over her face. “Very interesting indeed…”

* * *

Kespa closed her eyes. 

“I’ve done all I can.” she said. “After all, what’s a little thing like death? It can’t be that bad, can it?”

Silence.

“I’ve had enough!” she cried. “Enough of you and your idiotic silence!”

The mirror said nothing, as always. For years now it had been silent, its secrets shielded by taciturn lips. 

Kespa growled. “If you don’t tell me, you know I’ll find out somehow.” She clenched the Medallion in her hand and smiled. “There’s nothing you can do.” she said. “I’ve got another way. Dreya’s not alone, you know. There  _ are _ others I can reach…”

* * *

Cassy was uneasy. It wasn’t simply what had happened the night before, or what had happened with Tamox. Something was troubling the young Quirlwing-for she was young, not even three years yet. She shouldn’t have left her home nest for at least two more years, and homesickness had suddenly crashed upon her.  _ I wonder if they worry about me _ , she thought glumly.  _ I’ve been gone for so long… _

Suddenly, the young Quirlwing felt her unease turn to fear, a black fear that threatened to consume her. She didn’t know the source of it, only that it came from somewhere close by. 

“No…no…” Cassy murmured in a pained voice, sinking her head into her paws, closing her eyes, and clenching her fists. 

“You all right?” Dreya asked, turning her head to Cassy. 

“No…no…NO!!!!!!” Cassy screamed, suddenly launching herself into the air. Her wings flapped erratically, sending her spinning. “GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!” she yelled, writhing in terror.

* * *

“What in  _ flames _ …?” 

Kespa let the Medallion drop as her hands flew to her head. It was back again - the unbelievable pain. Only this time it was real. 

“I… what have… is this…  _ real _ ?”

She tried to pull free of the Quirlwing’s mind, but her attempts were unsuccessful. This was power totally unlike anything she’d ever seen before, something that was organic and intuitive.  _ Whoever this Quirlwing is, she’s got something very special.  _ The pain intensified, but Kespa’s curiosity was piqued. 

“You can’t get away.” she growled as the presence tried to slip away. “I’m finding what you have.” 

She dove deeper into the mind of her prey, realizing that whatever power was there was deep inside.  _ Maybe you don’t even know it’s there. _ she realized.  _ Wouldn’t that be ironic? _

Suddenly she broke through the final layer. She was inside the Quirlwing’s head, and she had access to all she needed.

* * *

“NO!”

Cassy screamed and writhed in pain. She had no idea what had invaded her mind, but its very presence was a knife through her soul. Her instincts screamed for her to run, and then, suddenly, she felt it. A surge of  _ something _ deep inside, loosed from any cage it had by the intruder’s prying, that broke free and rushed to protect her.

* * *

Kespa realized too late what was happening. Stumbling backward, she broke contact with the Medallion as quickly as she could. Too late. The  _ snap  _ of the Quirlwing’s termination sent her flying backward.

“Such force…” she marveled. “If I could only find out what it meant…”

The mirror forgotten, Kespa seized the Medallion from where she’d let it drop and darted out of her chambers.

* * *

“GET… OUT… OF MY HEAD!”

Cassy snapped into an upright position as she screamed, her fear expressed in her final convulsions. A flat wave of energy erupted from her body, shooting out in all directions.

“DOWN!” Dreya cried, grabbing Tamox and pulling him earthward. Krysty followed suit, and the three of them dove down and hit the dirt just before the wave washed overhead. A massive crash came shortly after as the wave hit the surrounding trees.

They lay motionless for a while, and then Dreya cautiously raised her head. When the smoke cleared, she saw that the blast had leveled a circular patch of forest about a mile across. Trees, bushes, and ferns littered the area, all black and smoking from the destructive beam. And in the center of the circle Cassy crouched on the ground, sobbing.

Dreya rushed to Cassy’s side, kneeling in the black and smoking foliage next to the Quirlwing. 

“What happened?” she asked gently. “What did you do?” Cassy looked up, her huge eyes ensconced in tears that flowed freely down her face. 

“I don’t know.” she answered meekly, her shoulders heaving with suppressed sobs. Dreya gently picked Cassy up and hugged her, realizing that whatever just happened had truly traumatized the young girl.

Finally, Cassy ruffled her wing feathers and pulled free of Dreya’s embrace. 

“That-that thing just came into my head. It didn’t ask me, it didn’t do anything at all. It just came.” Dreya narrowed her eyebrows. 

“What thing?” she asked. 

“I don’t know.” Cassy repeated, her words sending chills down Dreya’s spine. “I just don’t know.”

Dreya stood up, Cassy fluttering to her shoulder. 

“What worries me more than that is the fact that you have some kind of psychokinetic power.” she said. “That blast you released was impressive, but if you can’t control it, you’re in trouble.”

“I don’t know of anything like that happening before.” Cassy answered, nervously ruffling her wing feathers and glancing at Tamox and Krysty. Tamox was silent, but frowning in puzzlement. Krysty leaned against a tree, looking rather nonplussed by what had happened. Her eyes, though, revealed some surprise.

Cassy turned back to Dreya. “I don’t know why I feel this way,” she whispered, “but something’s very wrong. I can just tell.” Dreya looked at Tamox and Krysty, jerked a thumb over her shoulder to indicate it was time to move on once more, and shoved thoughts of the future out of her head as she walked on once again. Cassy sat silently on her shoulder

Tamox followed Dreya, next to Krysty. “What do you think happened?” he asked her, desperately wanting someone to talk to. 

“I’m not sure.” Krysty answered, her eyes narrowing. “I have heard tales of power like that being available to some, but never have I found evidence that they are more than that – stories.” Tamox shrugged as he walked, pushing his pack higher on his back. 

“Well,” he answered, “if those tales are true, then we’ll have to watch our backs around her, that’s for sure.” Krysty gave a little nod and spoke again, a slit of a smile on her lips. 

“If she can control it, then we have a powerful weapon on our side.” Tamox winced as Krysty spoke, remembering who – and what – he was. 

“We already do.” he answered. 

“What?” Krysty asked, turning her head to look at Tamox fully. Her grey eyes narrowed and she seemed to be hanging on every word that Tamox said. 

“We already do. It’s me.” he answered. Krysty’s right eyebrow shot up, and she turned to look at Dreya. 

“Does she know?” the elf murmured. 

“Yes. Dreya actually rescued me from Kespa.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yes. I’m actually the perfect weapon, if you can believe it.” Krysty laughed suddenly, a cold and mirthless laugh that chilled Tamox to the bone as it washed over him. 

“You? A weapon? Impossible!” she cried, shaking with mirth. Tamox laughed along with Krysty, and then sped up his pace to escape the chill that had crept over him. 

Cassy was right. Something was very wrong.

* * *

Kespa sat back in the library, still reeling from the brief mind-contact, taken aback by the power she’d accessed.  _ I only wanted to see where they were… what  _ did _ I find, exactly? _

She stood, giving her head a tiny shake to clear it of the Quirlwing whelp’s presence once and for all.  _ There’s power there, if only it could be unlocked… but then again, it _ was _ , wasn’t it? _

Kespa sighed, attempting to focus on the Medallion and Mayara’s last words. There had to be  _ some _ secret they hid, and whatever it was demanded far more attention than a tiny Quirlwing and her unusual mind.  _ There’s power there, but no need to worry…  _ yet.

* * *

Dreya froze suddenly.

“Tamox?” she asked.

“Yes?” he replied.

She turned to face him. “When we met… you said you were created to be a weapon.”

“Well…  _ yes _ , but I’ve never really fought.”

Dreya raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a weapon, might as well learn to  _ use _ it.”

Tamox shrugged off his pack and crouched in a fighting stance. “Ready when you are, your Majesty.”

Dreya raised an eyebrow and let her own pack fall to the earth as Cassy flew to a nearby tree. “My name,” she said, “is Dreya.”

Tamox backed up suddenly as the elf-queen lunged forward. Dreya’s sword was out in a flash, her body tensed and focused on a singular objective-  _ victory. _

Tamox, almost not in control of his actions, rushed to meet her. His small blade caught her sword and expertly deflected it, throwing Dreya off balance. She frowned and attacked again, this time coming in low for a strike at his stomach. He backpedaled again and dodged to the side, lashing out a roundhouse kick at Dreya’s head. She ducked, but only just in time, dropping to the ground to slash at his unprotected leg. Reflexively, Tamox flinched and leapt over the blade, tucking his knees in to skim the flat of the longsword. He landed with a  _ thud _ .

Dreya stood slowly, shaking her head in amazement. “You’re good.” she admitted. “Though, judging by the look on your face, you had no idea what you were doing.”

Tamox laughed. “You’d be right.” he said. “I’ve got no clue how to fight.”

“But you took me by surprise there, and I’m the best in Tralnrt!”

Tamox grinned and picked up his pack. “I challenged you?” he asked. “Really?”

Dreya smiled in return, shouldering her own bundle. “I didn’t say that, now did I?”

* * *

Kespa grinned slowly, her mind trained on her pawn in the game.  _ Time to reveal part of this scheme…  _ she thought.  _ Perhaps I’ll meet this “Dreya” before the day is out. _

* * *

A shiver crept steadily over Dreya’s skin, seeming to come from all around her and chilling her to the bone. It had been about one half-hour since Cassy’s experience, and the pine forest was as green as ever, but something was very wrong. She glanced over her shoulder. There was nothing there. Krysty’s eyes were boring into her, but they’d been doing that a lot.

Pain assailed her suddenly, the all-too-familiar headaches that seemed to appear just when she was on the verge of serious thought on what to do next. Dreya shut her eyes. This was not going to steal her energy- not again. A whole day had been lost because of her pain.  _ Not again. _

Dreya stopped walking and let her pack slip to the ground, fingering the fletching on one of her arrows with her right hand. Suddenly, with incomprehensible speed and impossible smoothness, she drew out an arrow, nocked it, and bent her bow. 

“There is something evil here.” she murmured. Cassy, having flown to Tamox’s shoulder, shared a long look with her royal friend, her grey eyes widening as she felt the chill. Dreya reached out with her mind, trying to identify the stifling power, but it was useless. 

“I’m going to look for it.” she announced, her eyes hardening as she prepared for a fight. 

“Be careful.” Tamox replied. “If it is Kespa, she could be anything.” Dreya nodded and set out into the pines, turning at the last second for one final look at Tamox, Cassy and Krysty. She wondered if she would ever see them again.

When Dreya had vanished, Cassy stretched her pearl-colored wings and glided to the queen’s forgotten pack, curling her tail around her body and looking towards Tamox. Neither of them saw what was about to happen. 

“We can set up camp here.” she said. She didn’t see the flash of crimson light or hear the telltale crack of a spell going off. She didn’t know about Kespa’s lieutenant until the fire hit her wing and sent her flying, climbing desperately above the canopy and into the sky. Thankfully, the wind above the trees was favorable and she could glide on her good wing, for Cassy had no desire to turn back. Even though she hadn’t seen where the fire began, she knew who her assailant was, and she knew she was outmatched.

Tamox hadn’t realized what was going on either, but he had seen Krysty raise her arm, palm up, and he had seen her face as she shattered the bones in Cassy’s wing with her spell. The look in her face was cold, cruel, and utterly evil, eyes blazing; and it was those eyes, still reflecting the red fire, that now were locked onto him. 

“Well, Crossover, it is time.” she growled, her voice full of hate. “Now you must prove yourself!”

* * *

Dreya moved silently, her whole body tensed. Kespa could be anywhere, or anything. She had to be ready for the battle, for that was inescapable. Suddenly, there was a rustling nearby. A small fern was vibrating slightly, producing the tiniest of sounds, but Dreya whipped towards it. She was so focused on the fern that when the deafening crack sounded and the forest trembled in its wake, she scarcely noticed it. It’s nothing, her mind assured her, and then Dreya remembered the dream, the dream where the hawk morphed into a falcon and killed everyone else.  _ How could I have been so stupid? _

Muttering various elven curses under her breath, Dreya ran back towards the place where she had left the group, praying she wouldn’t be too late. But, as she crashed through the ferns, her worst fears were confirmed.

Tamox and Krysty were battling fiercely, with Krysty the easy winner. Krysty slashed out with her sword, but Tamox barely blocked it with his knife. Tamox then launched a kick at Krysty’s waist, and Dreya winced, watching tensely, as Krysty caught his leg and sent him to the ground. 

“You were only ever a disappointment.” she murmured. “You don’t deserve to have me in you.” 

“You?” Tamox cried incredulously. “You’re the elven part of me?” 

“Kespa wanted the absolute best, so naturally her lieutenant was the only choice.”  _ Of course! _ Dreya suddenly realized what made her so uneasy about Krysty-she was a Twilight Elf, one of those who were swayed by Kespa to turn evil. Tamox was speechless for a moment, then his hazel eyes narrowed to slits and he glared angrily at his opponent. 

“I can’t believe that I share anything with a traitor like you!” he growled. Krysty returned his glare and snapped her hand out, enveloping Tamox in a translucent blue “net” with a crack. He gave a cry-and vanished.

Dreya waited no longer. She had taken aim and hidden behind a spruce the moment she had seen Krysty, and now she leapt out and fired point-blank at the other elf. Krysty turned and watched the arrow thud into her chest with a shocked expression, but then her gasp faded into a smile. She began to laugh, choking as the blood spread to her lungs. Dreya looked on and suddenly fell to the ground, pain assailing her with each cackle from the dying traitor.  _ So she’s the cause of my headaches… _

“I win.” she said weakly, almost trying to convince Krysty to  _ stop laughing _ . 

“I win!” she cried again, her voice trembling. The hysterical laugh continued. 

“You won the battle, but there are other ways to win the war.” Krysty replied, using her last strength to sit up. “You’re so secure in your pitiful victory, you’ve forgotten one very important thing.” Before Dreya could stop her, Krysty had snapped out her palm and enveloped her killer in the same spell that had taken Tamox. “Never underestimate your opponent.” the Twilight elf finished. “Oh, and just so you know;  _ I _ killed that ridiculous girl on the Guard.”

Dreya screamed. Air rushed around her. She fell down into utter black. Something cold cracked against her skull, and she knew no more.


	8. Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the following chapter were originally one long chapter that was like three times the length of the rest of the chapters in this story. I had a hyperfixation and pacing problem.

“Dreya? Are you alright?” The voice rang out in Dreya’s head, touching off several explosions of pain. Moaning, she opened her eyes and saw only darkness. As her eyes adjusted, she realized where she was. Somehow she and Tamox had entered into a dark room, dimly lit by a shaft of torchlight breaking through a barred window in the door. Her mind was a blank for a few seconds, and then full memory flooded back. 

“She killed her.” Dreya choked out hatefully, forcing herself to sit up.

“Good. You’re awake.” Tamox said. “But what do you mean? Are you talking about Krysty? Who did she kill?”

The queen’s eyes were dark with anger. “Anshi.” she murmured. “She… she killed my sister.”

Tamox felt his heart twinge at her words. “Oh, Dreya…I…I’m so sorry.” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I never should have trusted her.” 

There was no sound for some time, and then the quiet was shattered by a  _ clank _ as Dreya felt for her sword and her hands grazed the tip.

“All your weapons are here.” Tamox informed her, pointing to a pile on the floor that the girl pulled towards her boots. “Keep them close.” he continued. “I looked outside the door, and you won’t like where we’ve landed.”

Dreya took a deep breath, then choked at the thick filth she had inhaled. It was rank with the smells of mold, decaying flesh, and a few other things she didn’t want to think about. 

“What is this place?” she asked, but her companion’s reply was stifled by a sudden noise. Footsteps echoed down the hall, their sound thick and heavy. Slowly Tamox rose and peered out the window, quelling the sense of horror that rose up in his throat. Outside two Myrl were passing by, one dragging a Xarn woman behind it. Her face was pale and grey, and her arm bore the telltale marks of  _ Myrillia  _ serum injection. He realized with a jolt of nausea where they were.

Dreya watched her companion shakily sit back down as the footsteps faded. She saw the fear in his eyes and suddenly understood that he knew their location.

“Where are we?” she asked softly.

“How should I know?” he said, suddenly averting his eyes. 

“I can see it in your face, Tamox.” she pressed. “I know you don’t like where we are, but if we’re going to escape I need you to tell me.”

He closed his eyes. 

“We’re not going to escape, Dreya.”

“What?”

“We… we’re in Kespa’s dungeon.”

“ _ What? _ ”

Tamox sighed. “Now you see why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Dreya sighed, her eyes dimming and her shoulders slumping.

“How? How did we end up here?”

Tamox shrugged. “Krysty?”

“That has to be the answer.” she said, feeling the misery of the moment catch up to her. “It had to be magic of some kind. But no one other than an Orifax has ever used magic as far as I know.” 

“Maybe whatever she tried to do was supposed to send us to Kespa.”

“I don’t know.” the queen admitted. “I have no idea what happened or how we got here, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. How can we get out?”

“We can’t.” Tamox said. “The dungeons themselves aren’t that guarded, but the fortress itself is. There’s only one gate, and it’s magic.”

Dreya groaned. 

“So, we’re trapped here until someone finds us, and then we’re dead because no one can rescue us.” 

Tamox nodded. Dreya sat up, grabbing her bow from where it lay on the floor. She then took off her quiver and passed it to him along with the weapon. Tamox reluctantly took them, giving Dreya a quizzical look. 

“What are these for?” 

“Well, seeing as we can’t escape the fortress but we can get out of here, I’m going to have a look around the upper levels.” 

“You can’t! She’ll catch you! You’re going to-!” 

“No, I won’t be caught, and I won’t be killed. If Kespa doesn’t know we’re here already, odds are we’ve escaped her notice. Maybe I can get some information while I’m here.”

“Then what do I-?”

Dreya stood and fastened her sword to her belt. “You stay down here and save anyone you can, all right?” she said.

* * *

Dreya stepped outside the secret room and glanced left and right.  _ All clear, but for how long?  _ That was the question. She realized her disadvantage – here in enemy territory, she was completely at a loss. Her surroundings were a mystery, and the added challenge of Myrl scattered everywhere turned her movements into a deadly game of chance.

_ Can’t move yet.  _ she thought. Crouched behind a barrel of what appeared to be some kind of biscuit, she managed to peer around and search for the door.  _ Yes.  _ It was just ahead, not twenty paces from where she knelt.  _ Finally, a chance to get into the light. _

As soon as she was certain the coast was clear, she made her move.

The lower halls of Kespa’s fortress were oddly tomblike. As Dreya carefully explored countless corridors, she took the time to think over the past week. Tamox’s arrival had led to the Xarn which had led to Krysty, and there was precious little time to ponder the occurrences. 

_Except Anshi._ Dreya stopped, stiffening as the name echoed in her head. _Not now._ _Think of something else- like why Krysty wanted to travel with you. Do you have an answer to that?_

No, she didn’t. And that was the odd thing- what  _ was _ the point of Krysty?  _ Kespa doesn’t send spies out lightly- she either stumbled upon us and decided to reconnoiter, or-  _ she gulped and gripped the wall for support-  _ or Kespa knows about me. _

The first idea seemed most likely- after all, she reasoned, if Kespa had known of her existence before this point, there would probably have been attempts on her life by now.  _ Other than Krysty’s, of course. _ No, the odds were that she remained an enigma to the usurper queen.  _ Which I can settle for any day. _

As she walked down a door-lined hall, another thought surfaced: what had happened to Cassy?  _ Probably dead, _ she reasoned,  _ seeing as Krysty was in no mood to spare anyone. Or maybe she got away. I hope she’s not injured if she’s alive, though. She was so nice. _

Dreya was forced to push her considerations back as she approached a door at the end of the hall.  _ Odd, _ she thought.  _ Is it locked?  _ She tried the tarnished brass handle, and found the room open. As she pushed the mahogany door inward, what she saw took her breath away.

The room before her was huge, intimidating, and filled with books. There were more tomes, scrolls, and diaries than Dreya had seen since her time in the old city of Norigoth…and then she realized what had happened. Kespa had ransacked Norigoth in an attempt to scatter her enemy, but they had fled to Tralnrt, their refuge in time of war. Thankfully, Tralnrt had been a secret known only to the royal family, and the elves as a people were safe, but Kespa had stolen their library. It was this library that Dreya now stood in the midst of.  _ I can’t believe it, _ she thought, moving through the vast halls and pausing at every corner to wonder at the treasures contained within Kespa’s sanctum. Books that she hadn’t seen in years, or that she had believed gone forever, were there before her. 

Dreya’s hands moved over the shelves that she could reach, grasping books and skimming through the pages, reading the flowing, curving script on old parchment. Her mind was opened, and the scholar in her emerged. Suddenly, something caught her interest-an old, yellowed book was lying open on a table not fifty feet from her. Dreya put the scroll she was holding back on the shelf and walked cautiously over to the table. The book was ancient, much older than any of the other tomes in the library. Her eyes flicked over the pages, finally coming to rest upon an ink sketch.  _ The Medallion! _ The thought shocked Dreya, and she studied the book even more carefully. Soon she was buried deep in a history of the Orifax line, their doings, and the events that caused them to create the Medallion.

Minutes ticked past and turned into hours as Dreya immersed herself in elven history; soaring with her predecessor Tegan and his eagle mount during the legendary Genesis Conflict, flowing with the river as Norigoth was built, and finally, an almost-eternity later, ending with the record of Isilré, the elves’ greatest warrior queen. It was she who brought peace to the forest and insisted that a Medallion be made to help keep it that way, and it was she who earned the name Orifax, or “noblest ruler”. \

Suddenly, Dreya stopped reading. The room had grown strangely silent, and then a voice muttered a curse as something crashed to the floor. Someone else was here. Dreya waited a few moments, and then two grey forms moved clumsily into view. Myrl. The sight of them sent chills through Dreya’s spine as she prepared herself for battle.  _ I’ll have to make it quick, _ she thought.  _ If I have to fight, it’ll be on MY terms this time. No more skulking around like a rat. Now, I will arise as the monarch I am.  _

* * *

Tamox moved silently through the dungeon corridors. His prior life was coming back now, and he remembered each turn, how to stand, when to duck. The noises were familiar, and yet his temper flared up with each groan, moan or whimper. 

_ I have forgotten how to live here, _ he realized.  _ Despite my trained nerves, I have forgotten how to deal with the pain of those who have no hope. _

He passed by a short corridor, lined with cramped cells. He glanced in, and saw that in each cubicle a Xarn was contained. Some were almost normal in appearance, others were injured or ill, and some were deeply into the later stages of the Shift, the transformation from Xarn to Myrl. He blinked back sudden tears, afraid to look for fear he’d see Saela.  _ These people could be her family. _ he realized.  _ Or her. _ He looked for the keys to the cells, suddenly thinking he could possibly save a few of the captured, but then logic set in. The cubicles in this corridor were cramped, barely able to be called living spaces. The Xarn here had been dumped and left to complete their Shift. All had been infected with the  _ Mryllia _ , the serum that changed each prisoner from free Xarn to captive soldier. Reluctantly, Tamox turned his back on the others.  _ I can’t help them anymore. _

Suddenly, a sound different from the others broke through the tumult. Voices, the clatter of armor…these were things that demanded his attention. Tamox moved swiftly along the halls, and he darted into an armory just as two Myrl had left it. Peering out from behind a crossbow, Tamox saw something that froze the hope in his soul. The two Myrl had stowed a sword by the door of the armory… Dreya’s sword. The ruby in the pommel was unique and unmistakable. 

_ No… _

Tamox ran to the door of the armory.  _ She can’t… they haven’t… _

He peered out and saw- she was in the hallway; bound, gagged, and unconscious. Two guards were dragging her between them to an unoccupied cell. 

_ She… she can’t be captured… no, she can’t… _

Tamox had to force his legs to stay still, to keep from collapsing in a sudden faint.  _ She can’t be gone! _ he thought.  _ She can’t! _ He knew that she wouldn’t be killed- despite Dreya’s belief that Kespa slaughtered all elves in her prisons within days of their capture; the whole idea of imprisonment in Kespa’s mind was to provide a hopeless and painful state that substituted for death. However terrible her end would be, Dreya’s fate as of that moment was much worse. 

_ If she’s gone, I have to respect her wishes…so what would she want me to do? _ Tamox sat still for a few minutes, and then suddenly he remembered Dreya’s final instructions. He saw her sitting before him-the determination in her eyes, the sword tucked back into its scabbard. He heard her voice, cold and unwavering: “Stay down here and save anyone you can, all right?”

_Okay, so I need to save anyone I can._ His heart ached, and he suddenly remembered the cubicles containing the Shifting Xarn. The sense of powerless anger returned, and his fists clenched. Sure, Dreya was patronizing, overbearing, and mistrustful – but she was his friend. _Even if I’m not exactly her preferred company, she’s still the person I would save if I could. But I…_ _I can’t do anything for her now. I have to focus on what she wanted._

Tamox moved silently out of the armory, following the guards in the shadows cast by the torches the two Myrl in front bore. He watched the cell where Dreya was locked, keeping a silent vigil. Two or three times she stirred, but she never fully woke.

“Dreya?” he called. “Dreya?”

She moaned softly, but her eyes remained closed.

“Dreya, please wake up!” Tamox said. “Please!”

She didn’t move.

_ I have to try to save people. I can’t sit here and wait. _

“Dreya?” Tamox called again. “Dreya, I’m going to leave now.” He stood up and turned away from her cell. “I’ll be back!” he reassured her. “I won’t leave you!”

With one final look backward, he plunged into the darkness of Kespa’s dungeon. Maybe, just maybe, he could find someone who would help him.

* * *

“Tamox?”

He had been there… she was sure of it. She could feel him, somehow, even though the world had turned to darkness about her.  _ Where am I? _

She tried to push herself up, but her hands were tied together and she fell hard, cracking her skull against the floor. Oblivion took her, and she knew no more.

* * *

A soft whimper startled Tamox and knocked his mind out of its reverie. He whirled around, searching for the source of the sound.  _ What? Who is it? _ The sound was repeated, a faint but sincere cry of agony. 

“Who are you?” Tamox said. “Can you speak?”

Only silence answered him. 

He turned one last time. His eye caught something pale, and he moved to investigate. In the corner, barely visible from the main passage, was a tiny cell, little more than a closet. A dull bronze set of crossed bars formed the front wall. Tamox sighed.  _ I must have seen a reflection in the metal.  _ He glanced at it one more time as he turned back and froze. Inside the cell, a limp figure was curled.

_ What? _

One more glance confirmed it – there was definitely a person in there. Tamox checked to ensure the passageway was free of Myrl and darted to the cell for a closer look.  _ It’s a girl? What’s she doing here? _

The mysterious prisoner was unconscious, leaning against the cold bronze bars as blood dripped down her face. Her clothes were a dingy grey and brown, tattered from imprisonment, and her pale hair curled wildly about her face. Suddenly Tamox spotted it – her ear poked out from the blonde tangles, and it was smooth and curved up to a point.

_ She’s Ilviren? But… but how? Why? No, I have to save her. Dreya would have wanted it. _

He pulled out the knife Dreya had given him and examined the cell door. The lock was old and rusty, but the keyhole was the wrong size for the blade to be used as a lock pick. Not one to be deterred, he settled on sawing through the clasp. It was noisy and slow, but eventually it snapped and the lock came away in his hand.

_ This doesn’t make any sense.  _ he realized.  _ She’s an elf, she’s more dangerous then any mid-shift Xarn. There should be more guards… shouldn’t there? _

Tamox jerked the door open with a  _ creak _ and suddenly understood the lack of guards. The girl was painfully thin, her face covered in blood and fine scars. Her shirt was in tatters, scars and welts lacing the skin once shielded from sight. An eerie sensation crept over him as he gently grabbed her left arm and draped it over his shoulder, pulling her out of the door and free of the cell. The room was close. He’d get away with her. 

_ I wonder what happened to her, _ he thought as he walked, and then he saw it. The girl’s right arm was injured.  _ No, not just injured...it’s half gone! _ It was true. The arm had been brutally amputated from the elbow down. A grey rag was tied about the stump to prevent blood loss. 

_ What horrors has she endured? _

The mental question hung in the air, with only the darkness to answer him.

* * *

A groan from the girl suddenly brought Tamox back to reality. They were both sitting in the secret room once more, and the rescued elf was coming around. Her eyes fluttered open, and then she saw Tamox. 

“Who are you?” she cried, sitting up. Despite her deep slumber, she had no trouble returning to consciousness. Her voice was cold and demanded respect, and it held a hint of fear and despair. “Where am I?” 

“You’re safe in a secret room in Kespa’s dungeon, and my name is Tamox.” 

She sighed in response.

“Are you friend or foe to Kespa?”

“She is responsible for my existence, but I hold no loyalty to her. She’s a monster who would kill you before she looked you in the eye.” 

The girl sighed with relief and slumped over. Tamox moved to catch her and gently helped her sit up.

“You should rest.” he said.

She shook her head fiercely, pushing him away. Tears streamed out of her eyes, cutting clean swaths through the blood. 

“I thought – for just a  _ moment _ , even – that I was safe, that I could forget what happened… but I can’t.” A few convulsive sobs escaped her before she continued. “I have nothing left, Tamox. She’s probably gone. There’s no way she can…not after two years…” her voice trailed off; her head sank in a picturesque, despairing manner. She suddenly looked back up at Tamox, shock and recognition in her eyes. “Where…where did you get that?”

Her icy grey stare rooted Tamox to the spot until he finally realized what she was so excited about. The mystery elf was staring at his knife. 

“This?” he asked, pulling the leather sheath free along with his weapon. She took it abruptly, staring at it intently, her hands running over the intricate designs tooled into the material. 

“I never thought I’d see it again…” she murmured, hugging it to her chest as if it was her last hope in life, and then she snapped her head around to glare at him. “Where did you get this?” she asked him again, her words dripping with venom…just like Dreya. 

“I was given it!” Tamox cried, throwing his arms up over his face. She glared at him, her eyes on fire. “Don’t hurt me! She gave it to me before she was captured!” he continued. 

“Who? Who gave it to you?” She had taken the knife from its sheath and was pointing it at Tamox’s throat. “Tell me the truth or you’re dead.” Tamox shuddered, but he mastered his fear. This girl could be a plant, or even Kespa herself. 

“I won’t say a word.” he answered, trying to look imposing. “Not without knowing you won’t betray me.” This did little to help the situation. 

“Do I look as if I have ANYTHING to lose?” the girl cried. “Tell me NOW!”

Tamox’s eyes widened still more. The knife was awfully large now that someone else was holding it.  _ Should I tell her? _ he thought. 

_ Well, I can’t help Dreya if I’m dead. _

He looked the elf in the eyes and answered, his gaze immediately dropping to the knife. 

“H-her name was Dreya- I mean, uh, umm… Andreya!” he cried as the girl glowered at him. “Her name was Andreya Orifax. She was my friend!”

He closed his eyes, preparing himself for a painful knife stroke-but it never came. He opened his eyes to find the girl frozen in front of him, eyes wide, almost afraid. Her hand was trembling, and the knife clattered from it, falling to the stony floor. Her head bowed and more tears poured down, clearing the blood away in chilling starburst patterns. 

“To think I almost killed my only link to her…” she whispered. 

“Do you know Dreya?” Tamox asked, hope rising in him.

The girl gave a mirthless laugh and sat back, still facing Tamox, but her eyes were on the knife. 

“Do I know her?” she repeated with a toss of her ragged blonde hair. “Well, you might say that.” She looked up at Tamox and he saw pain in her eyes-a very familiar pain, one he had just seen only days before. 

“Tamox, my name is Anshi Hitaro, and you’ve just given me hope.”

* * *

The Myrl captain stalked away from the cell. A solid hour of interrogation, and not one word from this mysterious girl about who she was or where she had come from.

“Do we tell the Lady?” his lieutenant asked.

“Tell her what?”

“That there’s a strange girl in the dungeon and we don’t know who she is.”

The captain paused, thinking over his options. “No.” he finally said.

“What?”

“If her Ladyship asks after the girl, then I’ll inform her of the situation. Otherwise, what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. She’s got enough on her mind already, what with the war.”

“What do we do then?”

The captain thought, and then arrived at his decision.

“We guard her cell and make sure she can’t get out.”

* * *

“…  _ what _ ?!” Tamox cried. “No! You’re dead!” 

Anshi gave a mirthless laugh. 

“Not yet.” she answered. “Though at the moment eternal sleep tantalizes my every dream, I’ve been prevented from joining my forefathers in the world beyond.”

She sat upright, leaning forward and sighing deeply. “I know what you think. Surprisingly eloquent, isn’t it, considering I’m a prisoner? I  _ might  _ be a  _ spy.  _ After all, once someone’s  _ dead… _ ”

Anshi’s sarcasm cut through the silence. Tamox looked at her, noting her eyes, her hand, the way she crouched. This girl seemed genuine enough.

“Eloquent for a Xarn, perhaps,” he said, “but not for a member of the Guard and a noble.”

Anshi relaxed. “Don’t think this means I trust you.” she said.

“Don’t think this means  _ I  _ trust  _ you _ .” Tamox replied.

“So we’re agreed then.”

“I suppose so.”

A faint smile flickered at the edge of the blonde elf’s lips. “Well, Tamox – if that even is your name – I need to sleep. I wouldn’t mind some privacy – two years alone makes it hard to deal with people.”

“I understand.” Tamox said. “Oh, by the way, you wouldn’t happen to have any proof of your identity, would you?”

“No.” Anshi said. “You?”

“Only the knife.” he answered. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going now.”

“Wait.” Anshi said. “What will you do?”

“Dreya told me to save everyone I could. That’s what I’m doing.”

Anshi frowned. “If I could just… oh, this is pointless. Kespa probed my brain when I was first captured. I kept knowledge of Dreya from her – it was nearly impossible, but I did it – and in the process I absorbed something. She was thinking about… about a woman. A woman… in a… but no, that’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible?” Tamox inquired from the door.

“I saw a woman in a mirror. I mean,  _ inside  _ the mirror. But that’s impossible. Isn’t it?”

Tamox felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. 

“I would say so normally, but…”

“But  _ what _ ?”

“Be-before I escaped here,” the refugee confided, “I saw Kespa torturing a woman.”

“What’s that got to do with anything? She always – ”

“ _ This  _ woman happened to be in a mirror.”

Anshi’s jaw dropped.

“Do you know who she is, Tamox?”

“No. I’ve been on the run for years. I left shortly after that.”

“You could be lying.  _ I  _ certainly don’t know her.”

“But  _ you _ could be lying.” Tamox said. “Whoever she is, it seems obvious that we need to speak with her. I’ve not seen anything like a mirror down here.”

“Neither have I, though I admit my view isn’t exactly unobstructed. Cell doors make it hard to see out, did you know that?”

“No, actually. But that doesn’t matter. Here’s the point: I’m going to find this woman. Do you remember anything else?”

“Only that she was in a sunlit room.”

“That helps some.” Tamox said. “At least she’s on the upper levels.”

“So you’re leaving?”

“Yes.”

“Does the door have a lock?”

“No.”

“How do I know you aren’t going to lead Myrl here?”

“How do  _ I  _ know you aren’t going to go tell Kespa about me?”

Anshi shook her head wearily. “I just need to sleep.” she said. “I give you the word of a soldier, Tamox. I will lead no evil to you or this place.”

“And I give you the word of a wanderer.” he answered, trying to copy her style of speech. “I – I will lead no evil to you or to… to this place.”

“Then it’s settled. Are you going to go?”

“Yes.” Tamox said, and he stepped out the door.

* * *

Kespa stiffened. Something was wrong. 

_What in the flames is it_ now _?_ she thought, rising from her chair. The mirror, as always, was nothing if not silent. _Idiot wench._ _Wouldn’t open her mouth if it saved her life. Not that I particularly need her, though. And yet…_ She felt the shift down below, in one of the lower levels. The dungeons…? Yes, that felt right. Something was there, something alien.

_ I wonder what it could be. Not a prisoner, certainly; they’re as much a part of me as this castle. An outsider, perhaps? No, impossible. No one can get in. _

_ Krysty’s overdue from clearing up that Hitaro girl’s mess. It probably is her.  _

Turning to the door, Kespa looked one last time at the uncooperative mirror.

“Don’t go anywhere, darling.” she said, mocking playfulness in her voice. “I’ll be right back.”

* * *

_ This would be so much easier if I knew where she was. _

Tamox had searched the entire first level, looking through the entry hall and the immense library and the two storage room-lined corridors. Nothing could be found. Not even a bit of reflective metal or glass that would create the illusion of a mirror.

_ She was in the processing room last time… or was it the first serum chamber? Oh, this is useless. _

“I’ll never find her.” Tamox said aloud, and then he clapped a hand over his mouth in horror. Even though the level seemed deserted, Myrl were never far away. Any sound would draw them like bees to nectar.

_ I’ve got to get out of here before they show. _ Tamox decided. He turned and darted back to the entry hall.  _ Maybe I can hide in the processing room. _

He skidded to a halt in the empty hall, scanning his surroundings.  _ Good. Not surrounded yet. Maybe I can –  _

Tamox’s thoughts ceased as he saw the stairs. The second level. Odds were that Myrl would desert the upper castle to investigate his noise, and as there were other staircases much closer to the area in question, this one would probably be clear for a time.

_ Should I go for it? Is it safe? What if I’ve miscalculated? What if they didn’t hear me? What if… oh, Flames take it all.  _ he decided, picking up Dreya’s favorite expression and darting up the main stairway.  _ If I’m caught, I’m caught. _

* * *

Anshi slept fitfully at best, often awaking to darkness and solitude. Finally, she swore off slumber and sat up. Tamox was evidently searching for the mirror woman – she didn’t trust him, not  _ really _ , but at least she was out of the cell. And on that subject, there were some things that the Myrl had taken from her when she was imprisoned that she wanted back.

Standing carefully, the elf put one hand to her head as the blood inside her readjusted its flow.

_ Now,  _ she thought,  _ to find my bag… _

* * *

Kespa descended from her tower carefully, one hand on the banister. This was more for show than balance, but she couldn’t seem to shake the habit.

_ I wonder what got into them… _ she thought, realizing the castle Myrl were agitated. She controlled them loosely at best – her mental control was put to better use on the battlefield. Anything more than the awareness of their emotions was too much. In fact, she’d been notified of several guards’ deaths weeks after the crimes were committed – somehow the servants didn’t realize she didn’t pay attention to simple guards when there were battles to be won.

_ Whatever it is, I’ll find out soon enough. _

* * *

Tamox looked around at the top of the stairs.  _ Thank the Fates,  _ he thought, borrowing yet another epithet from his captive friend,  _ there’s no one –  _

_ Click. _

_ Click. _

_ Click. _

_ Click. _

Tamox felt his blood freeze. Only one person had footsteps that distinct.  _ Kespa. _

He didn’t waste time thinking, he simply ran. Darting down the hall, he spotted an open door and ran into the room. He turned and put his back against the wall to his left, knowing that she would pass him and hopefully not realize he was behind her.

_ Click. _

_ Click. _

_ Click. _

_ Click. _

The steps grew faster suddenly, Kespa’s shoes echoing around the corridors. She had crafted the footwear herself out of some kind of sap; the purpose was to keep the Myrl alert when she was coming.  _ The fear at her presence is certainly a bonus, isn’t it? Of course, that’s exactly what she wants. _

The rapid sounds of Kespa’s footfalls soon grew louder, and Tamox held his breath as she grew closer. He didn’t dare look out, but he did turn slightly to glimpse what was going on beside his hiding place.

And Kespa walked.

Right.

Past.

Him.

The stifling aura of fear around her was overwhelming.  _ I can’t do this…  _ he thought.  _ I’ve got to scream, got to say something. No, that’s just the Myrl within you, Tamox. Stop it. You can hold it together. _

Miraculously, she passed him by. He let out the breath he’d been keeping within his lungs and relaxed. A few more seconds and she was gone. The corridor was empty once more.

Peeking out of the room, Tamox paused.  _ Which way? Left are the Serum chambers, I think – unless that’s the  _ next _ level. And right is –  _

He paused.

Right was the direction Kespa had come from, and she had left an open door behind her. Sunlight streamed onto a staircase revealed by the unsealed portal.

_ Sunlight. Anshi said the mirror was in sunlight. _

Taking a deep breath, Tamox ran softly towards the newly-discovered stairs.  _ Maybe now I can find her. _

* * *

Anshi crept down the dark hall slowly, moving on her toes and stepping as lightly as possible. Myrl had very little brain, but it was more than compensated for in their senses. The slightest sound was enough to bring them in droves.

Reflecting on the Myrl brought thoughts of Tamox – or, more accurately, his oddly Myrl-like ears. She vaguely remembered his mentioning that Kespa had created him – had she used a Myrl? 

_ No time to think now. Got to find my bag… wonder where it ended up?  _

She thought for a moment, reflecting on what little she knew of the dungeon layout. There were storage rooms scattered throughout, it could take hours to search them all.  _ There’s got to be somewhere they keep what they confiscate. Kespa probably won’t trust her guards with all those weapons – of course! _

The armory. That was it. Obviously there was an armory, and odds favored her chances of finding her weapons.  _ Now, if I can only  _ find  _ it… maybe this way?  _

Anshi ran down another corridor, this one brightly lit by torches.  _ High traffic.  _ she realized.  _ That’s why there’s so much light. At least I know I’m headed toward something important. _

She almost missed the open door in her blind rush to light, but she came to a halt just in time. The room revealed was long and narrow; another door on the opposite side opened to another well-lit hallway.

_ This place must be huge.  _ Anshi realized, guessing that she had stumbled upon the medial point of the prison.  _ I’ve only covered half of it.  _

Footsteps from behind startled her, and she darted inside the armory as two Myrl passed by.

“The elf still holding out?” one asked.

“Not even a whimper.” the other grunted. “Whoever she is, she’s hiding something.” 

“Give ‘er a few days.” the first Myrl said. “She’ll wish she’d told all once the estril takes its toll.”

The conversation continued, but Anshi didn’t bother listening. She was safe for now, time to figure out what room this was. Little light seeped in, despite the well-illuminated passageways outside, but it didn’t matter. Two years of darkness made even the smallest amount of light seem enough to fill the whole world.

* * *

“I s-swear to you, milady, there was something here!”

Kespa narrowed her eyebrows, focusing hard on the Myrl before her. Apparently, all her servants had heard what sounded like a voice, and had flocked to a closet on the first level to find the “intruder”. She scanned the mind in front of her, seeing with interest that her slave was speaking the truth. But a search had revealed nothing, and a mental scan of the castle had revealed no intruder.  _ Evidently  _ someone’s  _ lying. _

“I find it hard to comprehend,” she sighed, “why your position seems to be impossible for you to understand.”

“B-but - !”

“ _ I’m _ talking now, you worthless lump.” Kespa snapped to the offender, and then continued. “As I was saying, you all have a job. Can anyone tell me what it is?”

No response.

_ So typical… time to do things  _ my  _ way. _

She snagged their minds in one fell swoop, fingers around the Medallion. They would speak, as one. Never mind the mental agony of having the psyche violated, they were lucky to only be under her control temporarily.

“ _ We guard. _ ” the captives answered, faces blank but eyes alive with terror. “ _ We serve. _ ”

“Very good.” Kespa said, turning and letting their thoughts drop casually. “I am going to the library now. Do not disturb me.”

“But, milady, what about the sound?”

Kespa froze. It was the same idiotic accident from before.

“I think it’s no longer your problem.” she said, finding his presence in her mind. The severance of the connection was brief and painless – at least for her. She didn’t bother to turn around as her creation fell to the floor, dissolving into sludge even as he plummeted earthwards.

“As I said,” she reminded, “I will not be disturbed. And clean up that mess.”

* * *

Tamox ascended the stairs quickly, climbing ever higher as the stone walkway led upwards. He knew where he was going – Kespa’s tower. Her personal quarters. He’d never been there before. No one had, no one except Kespa herself.  _ I don’t know what I’m doing up here.  _ he realized.  _ I mean, if Kespa comes back, she’ll kill me. She already cast me out once. And it’s too late to feign loyalty. Even her personal servants don’t come here. So I really shouldn’t be doing this. _

_ But somehow I feel like it’s the right thing. _

Turning one last corner, Tamox stopped dead. The stairs had ended. He was in Kespa’s own rooms.

And just facing him, next to a blood-colored velvet armchair, was a simple oval mirror propped on a wood frame.

* * *

Anshi quickly realized she’d found what she had been looking for. The room seemed to be some sort of storage area, and weapons from other prisoners lined the walls.

_ Bag, bag, where in Flames is that bag? They can’t have gotten rid of it. Judging by the dust, this place never gets cleaned. Oh, here it is. _

She reached up and grabbed her bag with her good arm.  _ They haven’t searched it. Idiots. I could have had a vital message in here, and they’d never know. Luck, I suppose.  _

The elf stepped back and moved for the door, and then halted. Something out the corner of her eye had caught her attention.  _ Did I see something flash? It looked like a red light, was it my imagination? _

She looked back, and the light lit up her peripheral vision again. She looked directly at it, and realized that it was simply torchlight reflecting off a ruby in the pommel of a sword.

_ A ruby? Looks like… Dreya’s… _

Anshi crept back to the sword and knelt by it. She lifted it carefully, looking over the leather scabbard and hilt of the weapon. 

_ No… _

Her stomach dropped as she realized that the weapon before her did belong to Dreya.  _ It can’t be… she can’t be here. No. _

But obviously, she was.

Anshi felt the tears approach her eyelids, and blinked them back furiously. Now was not the time. She couldn’t do anything alone, one-armed and dizzy from years of torment. She needed more rest, and a plan. Yes. A plan.

Seizing Dreya’s sword from its place by the far door, Anshi turned and fled back down the passage. If she could just get back to the room, maybe she could work out a plan in peace.

* * *

Tamox stepped closer to the mirror, hardly daring to breathe.  _ This is insane. What am I even  _ doing  _ here, anyway? Saving a woman inside a mirror. How does one go about that, anyhow? I suppose breaking the thing’s out of the question. _

He stood over it, finally settling himself into Kespa’s well-stuffed seat for a better look. The mirror was large and oval, a simple frame of dull brass bordering its edges. The glass itself seemed alright. Tamox could clearly see himself –  _ well, I definitely need a bath. But that’s not important. _ He moved his hand, and the reflection followed him perfectly.  _ Maybe she’s gone by now… _

Suddenly, the picture began to ripple. Clouds of white mist rolled into the mirror, covering every inch of the glass. Tamox leaned forward, unsure of what was happening.  _ Is this some sort of trap? _

The pale vapor hung before him only a few moments, clearing out and revealing the reflection once more. Only this time, Tamox definitely wasn’t looking at himself.  _ Unless, of course, I’ve grown long hair, lost my ears, and turned into a woman. Then it’s probably me. _

* * *

Anshi sat on the floor of the secret room, staring hollowly at the sword on the floor before her. 

_ I can’t believe she’s here.  _

_ She  _ can’t  _ be here. She’ll be killed. All our hopes, all our dreams, thrown to the Flames. _

_ I can’t let that happen. _

_ She can’t be here. _

The soldier suddenly realized Tamox had been gone quite some time –  _ is he leading Kespa to me? Did he betray Dreya? How does he know her?  _ There was little doubt in her mind that her rescuer knew the queen – how else could he have known her full name? Or gotten her knife? No, he had spoken truth. He knew Dreya.

The question was, how?

* * *

The woman behind the mirror hung limply on a stone wall. Her arms were trapped in iron cuffs bolted to the wall, and her legs hung free, braced against the rough rock to support her weight.

_ Who in the Flames is  _ that _?  _ Tamox thought.  _ Should I ask her? Can she hear me? _

Another look at the woman revealed she was painfully thin – her cheekbones stuck out like twin balconies on either side of a tower, her arms looked as if he could snap them like twigs.  _ Whoever she is, she needs help. She needs to be saved.  _

Mustering what little courage remained in him, Tamox leaned even closer to the mysterious mirror.

“Hello?” he whispered. “Can you hear me?”

* * *

Try as she might, sleep still eluded Anshi. The thought of Dreya at the hands of those  _ monsters… _ and now she realized the Myrl passing by the armory must have been talking about her.  _ She’s been poisoned with estril pollen? But that could kill her… I have to get her out. _

_ No. That won’t accomplish anything. All it will do is endanger you. And you have to be free. _

_ I have to be free. _

* * *

The woman opened her eyes.

“Who…?” she murmured. “I don’t remember that voice…”

“I’m Tamox.” Tamox said. “I’m here to rescue you.”

The lady straightened up, bracing her hands and legs against the wall and looking him in the eye.

“Tamox.” she said. “Well, about that rescue. I don’t know how you would go about saving me. You’re welcome to try, though.”

“Are you inside the mirror?” he asked. “And what about Kespa? She’s tortured you. I can tell by looking at you.”

“It gets easier to bear after a time.” the woman said.

“If I may ask,” Tamox asked, “who are you? And how long have you been here? You seem in surprisingly good condition.” His own speech surprised him –  _ why the formality? She’s no one special… _

“If that’s true, it’s because Kespa can’t afford to lose me.” the woman said. “Despite the torture, she keeps me quite well. Though most of it is my own mental power at work. I’ve managed to maintain the appearance of health, while in reality…”

Her voice trailed off, and she relaxed. Suddenly Tamox caught a faint glimpse of a frail shell of a woman. Her body was broken by countless scars and lacerations, and her face was sunken and pale. But her eyes were deep and full of anger.

“See?” the woman asked. The illusion snapped back into place.

“You still haven’t told me who you are.” Tamox said.

“You obviously already know.” the woman answered. “After all, why would you be here if  _ she  _ hadn’t sent you?”

“She’s downstairs.” Tamox said. “I came up here to free you.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” the woman snapped. “All that witch wants from me is information. That’s what you are. A probe. A spy. So just leave now and tell your mistress that I won’t say a word.”

“No.” Tamox said. “Not until you tell me what this is about.”

“You’re quite good, you know that?” the woman said. “It’s as if you honestly don’t know what she wants. Ah, well, I might as well humor you. You’ve given me quite the diversion from thinking of ways to kill your mistress.”

“She’s not my mistress.” Tamox said. “She cast me out.”

“A likely tale.” the woman said. “Another classic example of her cunning. Are you listening, Kespa? Do you hear me, witch? You killed my husband. If you think I’m telling you  _ anything  _ about Dreya, you’re sadly mistaken. Get out of here and let me rot in peace.”

Tamox’s jaw dropped.

“Y-you know Dreya?”

The woman laughed. “Next you’re going to be telling me you know them too.”

“She’s not a ‘them’.” Tamox said. “And her name isn’t really Dreya, it’s Andreya. Andreya Orifax. If you knew her, you’d know that.”

The woman’s sarcastic sneer melted off her face. Her mouth fell open, and there was real fear in her eyes.

“W-who are you?”

“What?” Tamox asked.

“Who are you, and how do you know my daughter?”

Tamox pulled back. “I – I don’t – I –  _ who  _ – ?”

“I asked you a question.” the woman said, narrowing her brown eyes. They had seemed gentle moments earlier, but now they were giving him an all-too-familiar icy glare.

“How in Flames do you know my  _ daughter _ ?”

* * *

_ Where is he? _

Anshi paced the floor of the room, her thoughts circling between Dreya’s fate and Tamox’s whereabouts.  _ Has he found the mirror? Is she holding out? Did he betray me? Have they tortured her like they have me? _

She stopped finally, a low growl building up in her throat.

_ I can’t take this much longer. Tamox, where  _ are  _ you? _

* * *

Tamox sighed.  _ This has not been my day.  _ he thought.  _ First, I find out the person I thought would help me is a traitor. Second I find that not just one, but  _ two  _ dead people aren’t as dead as I thought they were. I suppose that’s life for you. _

He cleared his throat and answered. “I suppose you’re Queen Mayara, then.” he said, rising and giving a brief bow. “I am Tamox, as I said before. I met Dreya in the woods where she saved me from a Myrl squadron. I then accompanied her on a mission to the Xarn, and traveled with her to find this place.”

“What?” the queen cried. “She’s  _ here? _ ”

“Well,” Tamox said, “yes.”

“Where? Is she alright? Why in  _ Flames  _ did you come here?”

“We were misled by a spy of Kespa’s.” Tamox said. “Dreya learned while with the Xarn that Anshi Hitaro had been killed, and she was convinced by someone masquerading as a Guard commander to go find Kespa’s fortress and exact revenge. She was forced to reveal her true nature, and then Dreya killed her – but not before she could cast a spell that sent us here.”

“She was a magic-user?” the woman asked. “And yes, my name is Mayara.”

“If I may ask, your Majesty, what happened to you? Dreya thinks you’re dead.”

“Don’t call me ‘your Majesty’, evidently my daughter’s taken over that role. And death would be a welcome relief from this constant imprisonment.”

“Why didn’t Kespa kill you?”

“She wanted a prize.” Mayara said. “She wanted to gloat. She wanted me to know she’d won.”

“But you knew she hadn’t.”

“Her victory was meant to be temporary. And now that Dreya’s here, we can set a plan in motion to topple this witch usurper’s reign.”

“There – there’s a problem with that.” Tamox said.

“And that would be?”

“Dreya – well, she – she went exploring when we were transported to the dungeons. And – she – she got herself caught.”

“ _ What? _ ” Mayara’s eyes flashed, but behind the anger there was deadly fear. “She’s  _ captured? _ Does Kespa know?”

“I – I don’t know.” Tamox said. “I don’t think so. I overheard a Myrl say he wasn’t going to tell her.”

The elven-queen frowned. “Hmm. That’s odd.”

“How so?”

“Kespa controls the Myrl. She should have known the instant Dreya was taken.”

“No.” Tamox said. “Actually, she gives the Myrl here a lot of freedom. She once said it had to do with having more important things to do with her energy.”

“I suppose soldiers are more important than housecleaners.” Mayara sighed. “But regardless, you have to do something.”

“Me?” Tamox cried. “Me? I can’t do anything right. I got myself thrown out of this castle only to sneak right back in; I got Dreya into all sorts of trouble. I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

“I don’t agree.” Mayara said. “You’ve got a spirit about you, Tamox, which most people don’t understand. I think you’ll go on to great things.”

“Really?” Tamox asked, leaning forward. “What do I have to do?”

“Just save her.” Mayara said. “Save my daughter.”

“And you?” Tamox replied. “I came to save you.”

“Ignore me.” the queen said. “If I left Kespa would know. And besides, I’m as much in the dark as you about how to get out.”

“Dreya will know.” Tamox said. “She figures out everything.”

“ _ No _ .” Mayara cried, her eyes widening. “Tamox, free her, get her out of here. Do anything you need to, but  _ don’t tell her about me. _ ”

“What? Why?”

“Because if she knew, if she realized I was here, she’d never rest until I was free. She’d get herself killed. Kespa’s  _ looking  _ for her, Tamox. This is no joke.”

“I – I never said it was.”

“It doesn’t matter. Get my daughter  _ out. _ ”

Tamox nodded. “I’ll do it.” he said. 

Mayara smiled, a few tears she must have restrained falling from her eyes.

“Thank you.” she said. “Thank you so much.”

* * *

Dreya opened her eyes slowly. The blood on her face was enough to make any eyelid movement feel like fire, but there was something else. She moved her hands up to touch a sore spot on her cheek, and felt a long, raised cut. She tried to remember how it had come to grace her visage, and then it came to her. In the middle of the fight with the Myrl, a sharp pain had penetrated one side of her face. When she’d tried to twist away from it, the pain seemed to tear a thin line in her skin. As her cold fingers grazed it, waves of nausea echoed through her whole body.  _ Poison! _ Dreya thought groggily, but she was gagged and bound at the wrists and ankles and could do nothing about it.  _ Where am I? _

She seemed to remember being interrogated by a Myrl squad leader, who thought she was an escaped prisoner. She hadn’t given him any information, so he had bashed her in the head. Apparently Kespa was too busy to be bothered with her.  _ Whatever she’s planning now, it’s something beyond the scale of any previous actions. _ What Dreya didn’t know was how long she’d been imprisoned, or what kind of poison had been used. A Myrl stepped into the cell suddenly, the door creaking as it opened. 

“Who are you?” he asked. It was the same captain who had interrogated her before. He undid the gag and repeated the question. 

“Who are you?”

“ _ Desdhra myrhi trye _ !” Dreya murmured faintly.  _ I’m not about to give him any information. _

“Elvish scum.” the captain shot back in Integra. “You’ll grow a tongue soon enough.” 

He knelt down to face her, fastening the gag again with a knot so tight it hurt. He left with a snarl, turning back to send one final slash of his whip across her back. Unable to withstand this new pain on top of all the others, Dreya blacked out again, hope seeming to disappear in this stifling darkness.

* * *

The door to the room flew open. Anshi sprang to her feet, arm raised for a fight.

“It’s me.” Tamox said, slipping inside and sliding the door shut.

“Where have you  _ been _ ?” Anshi whispered. “I’ve been waiting here for  _ ages _ !”

“I’m sorry.” Tamox answered. “Really. But this was important.”

“I’ve got something more important.” Anshi said, sitting back down.

“What?” Tamox asked, taking a seat across from her.

“Dreya.” the elf soldier said. “She’s here.”

“I know.”

“You  _ know? _ You knew my  _ sister  _ was here and you said  _ nothing _ ?”

“I didn’t know if I could trust you!” Tamox cried, throwing his arms up in front of his face defensively. “I’m sorry, Anshi, but I can’t be open anymore!”

“Anymore?” Anshi shot back. “You could have  _ told  _ me! That would have proven my innocence!”

“And Kespa’s looking hard for Dreya!” Tamox answered, disguising a shout in a loud whisper. “If you were a spy, you would have betrayed us!”

Anshi sighed. “You’re right.”

“We have to get her  _ out  _ of here.”

“We have to get  _ ourselves  _ out of here.” the blonde corrected. “I’m not sure how you feel, but two years down here is two years too many.”

“Agreed.” Tamox said.

“So did you find her?”

“Who?”

“The lady in the mirror.” 

Tamox stiffened.  _ Should I tell her? Mayara  _ did  _ say not to tell Dreya, but did she mean just Dreya or all elves? Anshi knew anyway, she won’t rest until I tell her everything. I have to say something.  _

_ But Mayara said to keep it secret. _

He took a deep breath. 

“No. I didn’t find anything.”

* * *

“That should loosen ‘er tongue a bit.”

Dreya hit the floor with a  _ thud  _ as the two Myrl bearing her body let their load drop. The captain smiled. 

“My thanks.” he said. “Now back to work. The Lady’s got prisoners to watch. And  _ you _ , you scum, learn some manners.”

Dreya would have glared at him if her head hadn’t been swimming in an ocean of pain.

“Never seen someone take it like she did.” one of the guards commented as the captain stepped out of the new prisoner’s cell. “She’s got fire, she does.”

“Not for long.” the annoyed Myrl scowled. “She’ll tell all. Give it time.”

* * *

“We still have to get her out.” 

“I assume you have a plan of sorts, Tamox.”

“Um, no.”

“So we’re improvising, then?”

“I – I suppose so.”

“Very well. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“An excellent idea, Anshi.”

The girl laughed faintly.

“You’re funny, you know that?”

Tamox bristled in mock anger.

“I am one of the most serious people you’ll ever meet.”

“Really? Then let’s see how seriously you kill Myrl.”

* * *

Thankfully, the Myrl had not broken the nearly hour-long silence of the library.  _ Finally, the worthless creatures get it through their heads. Why couldn’t I have created servants with brains? _

Of course, intelligence meant less control. Which was why the ruler put up with ineptitude time and time again.

Suddenly, she sat up straight. There it was again. That…  _ feeling.  _ There was something  _ wrong _ , here in her own  _ home _ .

_ I have got to find out what this is. _ Kespa decided. A quick mental scan revealed nothing, as usual; she decided it had to be the mental pressure that Dreya put on her from wherever the girl was. Turning back to the books, she set her mind on discovering the secrets of her opponent.

* * *

Tamox and Anshi ran through the dungeon, Tamox relying on his memory to track Dreya down once more. 

“I think it was this way.” he informed Anshi, who was pale and somewhat dazed from her imprisonment but still desperate to save her friend. Despite his time here, Tamox got lost twice before stumbling through the armory and into Dreya’s hallway. Five Myrl were posted before a single cell, giving away the location of a very important prisoner.

“Think we found her.” Tamox said.

“I think you’re right about that.” Anshi agreed.

The Myrl turned to face her, reacting instantly. One, appearing to be the captain, drew a crude broadsword.

“Scum.” he muttered. “Looks like we’ve got a couple fugitives, men.” 

Around their leader, the remaining Myrl faced Tamox and Anshi, blocking their path to the cell.

Anshi looked at Tamox. “Think we can take them?”

Tamox looked at the Myrl for a moment, contemplating the odds.

“Hmm. There’s five of them and two of us, and no backup coming on our side… actually, I think we’re set.”

The two of them sprang forward as one, slamming into the guards before any of them knew what had happened. The captain cried out a command, but Anshi had slit his throat before he could finish the order. She stabbed him multiple times after he fell, fury and grim satisfaction on her face. Tamox had grabbed Dreya’s sword from the armory and was clumsily but effectively dispatching some of the remaining guards. Anshi took out the final one with her knife, throwing it into his spine just as he swung his broadsword at Tamox’s head. 

“Come on!” she cried, ripping her dagger free and turning to kneel in front of the complicated padlock on the cell door.

“That Myrl you stabbed,” Tamox asked slowly, “is there a reason you hated him so much?” Anshi grimaced. 

“Who, the captain? He’s the reason I have only one arm.” 

“Oh.” Tamox glanced over his shoulder and started. “Anshi! Company!”

The elf sprang to her feet, knife in hand, as several more Myrl came into view. Anshi threw her knife as Tamox fired Dreya’s bow. The blade flew straight into the heart of the soldier at the head of the party, but Tamox’s arrow ricocheted off a wall.

“Take it easy!” Anshi cried, rushing at the fallen Myrl captain. She grabbed her knife from the pile of sludge and used it to dispose of the three remaining guards. “You could have killed somebody!”

“Wasn’t that the point?” Tamox asked, pushing the Myrl sludge and empty armor into a corner as Anshi returned to the cell door.

“Not when the ‘somebody’ might have been one of us.”

Anshi took her dagger and began to attempt to use it as a lockpick. She twisted and turned the knife, but it was useless. 

“Time to try the slow way.” she told Tamox, removing the knife and sawing at the lock. The metal was harder than the lock on her cell, and the steel blade of the knife wasn’t made for sawing through solid iron. “This isn’t the preferred way of doing things,” she muttered as the lock finally broke and came off in her hand, “but it’s effective, as you see.” 

Tamox pulled the door open and Anshi charged inside, stopping and straightening as she saw what lay within. 

“By the fire, Andreya…  _ what have they done to you? _ ” she whispered in a voice taut with rage. Tamox poked his head inside, and what he saw made his heart tear into pieces.

Dreya lay on her side, on the floor of the cell. Her face was covered in blood from a gash on her forehead, and a swollen purple cut ran along her right cheek. Her skin was pale and silver, and her wrists and ankles were cruelly bound with black cords. A gag prevented the unconscious queen from making any sounds. Anshi knelt by her friend, carefully lifting her and standing again. 

“Tamox, let’s go.” she said, her voice laden with sorrow and bitter anger. 

“Why is her skin like that?” he asked. 

“She’s been poisoned by a dagger infused with estril pollen.” Anshi explained. “It’s the preferred poison for Myrl, but it looks like Dreya’s gotten an overdose. I’ve rescued prisoners before, and they usually have only a small pockmark where the dagger hit.” She sighed as they walked back along the corridor to the secret room. “It’s just my luck that I don’t have the antidote.” 

“What does that mean?” Tamox asked. 

“It means that whatever healing can be done, Dreya’s got to do it on her own.”

The two allies returned to their shelter and gently lay Dreya on the floor. Anshi cut her bonds while Tamox undid the gag, and then they took turns chafing Dreya’s wrists and ankles to return blood to her limbs. They couldn’t do anything about the poison, but Dreya looked brighter somehow, as if she might win. “What do we do now?” Tamox said, lying down in a corner to sleep. 

“Now, we watch, wait, and hope.” Anshi answered. 

* * *

Kespa sighed and shook her head. Krysty was some days overdue by now.  _ Where in Flames is that woman? _

The queen closed her eyes and began to probe for the presence of her lieutenant. She had some stake in the servant’s fate – the magic-user was the closest thing Kespa had to a friend anymore.

_ Just a little further, I can almost feel… what on  _ earth?

Kespa rose from her chair, eyes wide.  _ No.  _

According to the Medallion, Krysty was dead.

_ It must have been Dreya. Who else had a reason to kill her? _

The usurper didn’t stop to consider that she really had no idea of where Dreya was, or indeed if her almost-friend had been with the mysterious girl at her time of death.  _ If only I kept closer tabs on my scouts… _

But speculation was useless at this point. The details of when, where, and how were secondary.

Now, there was only revenge.


	9. Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my philosophy in writing this book was "how many painful moments can I jam into as small of a word count as possible".

It was a long wait for the fugitives, some days in fact. The endless night was punctuated with the occasional cry or moan from Dreya, who was going steadily downhill. The scar had risen up, turning an ugly shade of deep violet, with the rest of her skin tinged an eerie silver-green. Anshi sat near Dreya night and day, studying her face and trying in vain to remember some kind of temporary treatment for estril poison. Her mind flew through all her training, poring over each antidote she knew of. Each day Dreya grew paler, unmoving and lifeless. It was plain to Anshi what was happening: her friend, her bond-sister, was running out of time.

“Tamox?” she asked one day as he returned from foraging for the two of them. “Is there any way you could find some estril?” He raised an eyebrow questioningly. 

“Estril? You mean the plant that Dreya’s been poisoned with?” 

Anshi nodded. “I need some of the nectar. The plant will probably be near to wherever you get food.” Tamox crossed over to the other side of Dreya, where he sat with his bundle of stolen bread and cheese. 

“Why do you want the nectar from a poison flower?” he asked. “Won’t that kill her faster?” 

“No.” the elf sighed. “Tamox, the discovery of estril pollen as a poison is fairly recent. For years, the nectar was used as an antitoxin. The guard still trains with it for nearly all poisons we’re taught to heal. There’s a small chance it might even counteract its own alkaloid.”

“But how do you know? What if it kills her?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what will happen, but I do know that right now it may be Dreya’s only hope.”

Tamox nodded and pushed himself onto his knees.

“What do I have to do?”

* * *

The Myrl working the kitchen gardens were female, oddly enough. Tamox hadn’t realized that before, but at the moment it didn’t seem worth his thoughts.  _ All that matters is getting that estril.  _

Anshi had gladly provided him with a description, and he scanned the dark earth before him for the scrappy weed.  _ No luck. They all look the same. _

_ Of course they do, you dunce!  _ a mental voice that sounded suspiciously familiar announced.  _ If you got out of the tree, perhaps you could see the difference. _

_ Wonderful.  _ Tamox moaned.  _ Since when did my common sense decide to sound like Dreya? _

_ Since you started making stupid decisions. You can’t afford any games; get your mixed-breed posterior out of the apple tree. _

_ It’s not my fault!  _ Tamox argued hopelessly.  _ It was difficult enough finding the stairs to get up here. I didn’t expect the Myrl to be here! _

_ They’re  _ everywhere,  _ Tamox. This is their  _ home. _ Comprehend? _

_ I liked it better when you sounded like me. Are you sure you’re not Dreya? _

_ Quite. I’m just your subconscious punishing you for losing the queen to Kespa, that’s all. Now get out of the cursed tree! _

_ I’ll need to cause a disturbance.  _ Tamox decided.  _ After all, if I get out now who knows what will happen? _

_ Now you’re making sense. _

_ No thanks to you for punishing me. _

_ I’m just your mind. You’re only hurting yourself. _

_ Maybe there’s something wrong with me. I’m fairly certain hearing voices isn’t healthy. _

_ I’m not a voice; I’m your common sense! _

_ If that’s true, give me some advice! _

_ Fine. See that apple? Take it and throw it through a window. _

_ That’s… actually a good idea. _

_ I told you you’re not crazy. _

Tamox rolled his eyes, grabbed the apple, and eyed the gardens below him.  _ There are windows everywhere… which one to throw it through? Wait. What about the kitchen? It’s just beyond that door, I can see the window plainly. Now you’re making sense, Tamox. Just lean forward, bring your arm back, and throw. It’s easy.  _

He inched forward slowly, peering out from between the apple tree’s leaves to look at the window properly. 

“Alright.” he whispered. “Just need to hit the window.”

He brought his arm back, not looking away from the glass plate.  _ Just need to break it. That’s all. Ready? And… NOW! _

Tamox released the apple with such force it sent the branch shaking. Sure enough, the window shattered as the almost-ripe fruit smacked against it, but the diversion was dangerously close to failing as the caster of the apple struggled to stay in his hiding place.

“What was that?”

“Get the Lady! Someone’s in the kitchen!”

“They may still be in there! Let’s go!”

The Myrl cleared out like magic as Tamox tried and failed to get back into the tree.

_ This is an awful time to be afraid of heights. _ he observed as the overstressed limb promptly snapped and sent him tumbling to the soil below. Thankfully he kept his mouth shut, and the soft earth cushioned the sounds of his landing, but he still panicked. The Myrl would have heard the noise and would soon be back.  _ Got to find the estril, got to find the estril! _

_ No time!  _ he realized, scrambling to his feet.  _ They’re here!  _

It was true. A few of the Myrl had returned, but before they could get a good look at the intruder he had fled blindly towards the kitchen. This was a poor move on Tamox’s part, as he succeeded in missing the door completely and crashing headlong into the opening created by his well-aimed apple.

“ _ Agh! _ ” he cried, falling into some sort of shelving. Wood snapped around him, and pottery crashed to the floor as Tamox found himself drenched in sticky, sweet-smelling liquid.

_ Liquid?  _ he thought, glancing around at the scattered bottles and splintered shelves.  _ What if… are these the nectars I’m looking for? _

He attempted to stand, grabbing as many of the fallen bottles as he could, but was promptly knocked to the floor again as three sacks of something heavy toppled onto him. They split as he lay motionless, and as he opened his eyes something white fell from his face.

_ Flour? And what’s this in my hand…? _

“You!” someone called. “Who are you?”

Tamox rose slowly, realizing that the nectars dripping down his body had stuck the flour to him like glue. 

_ Lovely. Now I look like someone’s dead commander. _

“Don’t move!”

A short Myrl clad in typical kitchen tan stood before him, kitchen knife pointed directly at his chest.

Tamox sighed.

“Listen, you don’t have to do this.”

“Shut your worthless mouth.” the girl spat. Her face was twisted in an ugly grimace, but her youth was obvious. Her skin still held traces of the Xarn color, and her feline ears had only begun to grow in.

_ She can’t be older than Saela _ , he realized.  _ Or what if…? _

Straightening up, Tamox faced her with as bold of a glare as he could muster.

“Listen to me.” he said. “I won’t move, but I want you to listen.”

The girl seemed confused as her old self clashed with Kespa’s magic, but she didn’t stab him.

“I… well… you… you remind me of someone. Someone I know. And I don’t know if you’re just her age or if you knew her or if you  _ are _ her, but I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

For a fraction of a second, it was as if the victim before him was standing free once again. Tamox could almost feel her agony as she wanted to let him go but the forces inside her commanded her to kill. And then suddenly it was over, and she was rushing at him with her knife. Tamox sidestepped and mechanically dispatched her with his own blade, watching in silent pain as she froze, looked down in horror at the hole in her chest, and then fell to the ground, skin turning to sludge and body partially melting away. 

The warrior wiped his knife and turned to the door.

_ Time to get back to Anshi _ .

* * *

“I will say it again.  _ What happened here? _ ”

The kitchen Myrl were silent. Kespa had been alerted to the presence of the intruder earlier that day, but nothing seemed amiss.

“I won’t accept this drivel any longer. If there was someone here, I would  _ feel  _ it. Would I not?”

None of her servants answered her.

“Back to work.” Kespa said. “Something’s obviously wrong, but until I know exactly what, it’s not worth killing any of you.”

Of course, one of them already lay dead, and the queen made a point of stepping into her half-dissolved corpse with her hard resin heel.

* * *

“Tamox? What  _ happened  _ to you?”

Anshi stared at the sticky, flour-covered figure slipping into their hideaway.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” he said.

“Did you get the nectar?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. I was discovered. I fell through a shelf while escaping. That’s where all of  _ this _ came from.”

“What’s that in your hand?”

“These?” he asked. “Someone said I fell into some nectar storage, so I grabbed what I could before the Myrl found me. I know the odds of one of these being estril is low, but maybe I got lucky.”

Anshi frowned and beckoned for Tamox to sit opposite her, taking the bottles he’d smuggled back and examining each one. 

“This one’s honey.” she murmured. “And this is anise oil. Not sure about this one, I think it’s got something ginger in it… flames, Tamox, this is unbelievable.”

“What?” he asked. “What is it?”

The girl met his gaze with the hint of a smile. “Tamox, somehow you got us some estril nectar. Dreya’s lucky to have you.”

She sniffed the open flask again, eyes half-closed as she remembered her training. 

“Can you lift her up?” she asked. “She needs to take a small dose every few hours. If we had proper gear I would be more comfortable, but this is better than nothing.”

Tamox nodded, moving beside Dreya and carefully easing her into his arms. Anshi leaned over her sister, carefully opening her mouth and administering a small amount of the antidote. The action didn’t go unnoticed by the unconscious queen, who stirred and moaned at the new touch.

“Easy.” Anshi cautioned, her hand on Dreya’s shoulder. “Alright. That’s done. Just lower her back down.” She breathed a sigh of relief as Tamox returned the queen to the floor.

“Now what do we do?” he asked.

“Simple.” she answered. “We wait.”

* * *

The wait was made worse by the near-total darkness and tomblike silence. Anshi spent the hours at Dreya’s side, administering the estril and constantly checking on her sister to ensure that nothing had changed for the worse. Her work was draining, but at the same time it gave her focus.  _ No more shadows. No more agony.  _

Tamox wasn’t so lucky. With Anshi consumed by her duties as healer, it fell to him to scout for food and gear. He found himself falling back into the past, slipping through the cracks in his forced optimism to the scared, near-soulless shell Kespa had caused him to be.

And he hated every moment of it.

Oddly enough, the darker his thoughts became the more he thought of Saela. He remembered how she’d met him in what seemed like another life, and the thought of her kindness brought some semblance of warmth to his heart. He knew he wanted to see her again, and he knew that the spark between them deserved to ignite.

But nothing could be done about it, not until Dreya woke.

If she did wake at all.

* * *

The first thing she noticed was that the gag was gone. She was lying on her back, staring up into unrelenting black, but the gag was gone.

“Nnnngh…” she moaned, trying to sit up and failing. “I… where…?”

“Dreya?” 

The voice was high-pitched and tight with anxiety, but she still recognized it.

“Tamox?”  _ Yes. That’s who it is. _ She blinked, trying to shift position to see him better, and when she realized she couldn’t move without pain, she continued speaking. “How did you –  _ flames, _ what happened to me?” the girl asked, attempting again to move but not succeeding as a wave of nausea swept over her.

He leaned into her field of vision, and she was shocked by the fear and relief mingled in his eyes.

“We… we almost lost you.” he said. “They captured you, and they poisoned you, and we almost lost you.” Dreya took a deep breath.  _ Captured. That’s right. I went up to the library, and I tried to fight that group of Myrl. But I don’t remember anything other than that. _

“They can’t kill me so easily.” she murmured, shoving herself up on her elbows. Pain assailed her and she closed her eyes, head pounding. Dimly, she heard Tamox babbling on- “We tried to use estril nectar, to fight off the poison. It worked at first, but it isn’t the proper antidote. It’s a miracle you’re alive at all, so you need to take it easy and heal.” Dreya nodded slowly, a red haze taking over her thoughts and threatening to snatch her from consciousness. Her eyes closed and she began to collapse back onto the stone floor- and then a hand reached from the darkness behind her and grabbed her shoulders, catching her. 

“Take it slowly.” a voice said. “You almost died, and we don’t need any more scares like that.” The speaker eased Dreya into a sitting position. Something about that voice was familiar, she  _ knew _ it from somewhere, but the fog of sleep and poison made it hard to remember from  _ where  _ exactly.

“W- who are you?” she murmured, trying to keep her eyes focused on Tamox so she didn’t go cross-eyed and dizzy again. “I… I know you from somewhere. Who are you?”

“The nectar.” the voice said. Tamox turned and grabbed something off of the floor. 

“Here,” he said; pushing an open bottle at her. “Drink this.” Dreya obeyed, and the pain lessened as she swallowed a bittersweet liquid. 

“Who are you?” she asked for a third time, trying to focus on the sound of the mystery person.  _ Can’t turn my head without the room spinning… who  _ is _ she? _

“You don’t know me?” the voice asked, and Dreya heard her laugh. “I may have been gone two years, but I didn’t think you could forget me, Andreya.” 

_ What. _

Dreya’s eyes widened, and a few involuntary tears slipped down her face. Her heart was pounding so loudly she thought it would echo around the room.  _ Forget… I forgot…  _ no. 

That voice… it was impossible.

_ This can’t be happening… _

_... can it? _

Shaken and already almost delirious with new-broken fever, Dreya forced herself to turn around. Her vision went dark and twisted, and she clung to the stones set into the floor until her pulse had returned to normal and she could see again. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked toward the source of the voice. What she saw left her speechless with shock. 

Behind her, grey eyes welling with sorrow and the memory of hard times, was Anshi Hitaro.

_ No. _

“Anshi?” she moaned, hardly daring to breathe for fear of losing her friend, for fear of waking up. “Is that you?” 

Her sister didn’t say anything; she just gave a small, ghostly smile. Dreya, shocked and still unsure of exactly where she was, found herself collapsing in a heap. Anshi caught her and wrapped her in a partial hug. 

“It’s all right.” she murmured over Dreya’s sobs. “It’s all over now.”

The queen felt her heart pounding through the arm holding her up, finally letting the fear and frustration seep out. She let herself linger in Anshi’s touch, at last sitting up and facing her sister.

“How?” she asked. “How on earth did you survive?”

“What do you mean?”

Anger flared in Dreya’s voice. “They found your  _ body _ , Anshi. Aril identified it. He brought me the news of your death.”

Anshi’s face lost all its color. “What? I… father… oh,  _ flames. _ ” She closed her eyes and wept softly, failing to hide the tears. 

“There was a woman. One of the Ilverin. She said she was a friend, an ally, but she was a magic-user and she betrayed me. One moment I was fighting for my life, the next I was strapped onto a table with a knife through my shoulder. And it didn’t stop there.”

Her voice trailed off. Tamox’s face was stony, but his eyes betrayed the horror he felt. Dreya remembered what he’d told her, and she realized he’d seen it happen before to someone else.

“Tell me.” the queen pressed. “Tell me what she did.”

“It’s nothing.” Anshi said flippantly, turning to the flask of estril nectar and offering it to her sister. “Drink. Now.”

Dreya glared and crossed her arms. “Anshi, my sister, do not insult my intelligence by lying to me. What did she do to you?”

Her friend sighed and sat up, leaning into the torchlight. Dreya could see it now - her right arm was half gone, brutally sliced off at the elbow. 

“What happened?” she asked. Anshi’s face hardened. 

“She wanted to know details-where we were hiding, how many of us there were, and most importantly,  _ did Mayara Orifax leave an heir _ ? Of course I couldn’t give you away, and this was the price I paid.”

Dreya’s heart seemed to rip in two. 

“You could have lied.” she said bitterly. 

“No, I couldn’t have. She had the Medallion. And when I didn’t answer her, she just let the Myrl have me. I’ve been holding out ever since.”

“How… how long?”

Anshi’s face was stony. “Two years.”

That answer seemed to finish Dreya, and she let the tears flow. Anshi’s tale and her own brutal imprisonment had forever driven the idea that Kespa had any shred of light left from her mind. 

“Once more, my birthright is used against me.” she growled. “I try to save the world, but it ends up twisted even more because of my efforts – I can’t even save you from this pit. Why can’t this just end?” The dark question hung in the air. Tamox couldn’t think of anything to say, and Anshi just put her hand on Dreya’s shoulder. 

“You couldn’t save me because you were sent here by that spell.” Anshi said. “When you shot Krysty, I had only been here a few days. The portal must have sent you forward two years. It wasn’t your fault.” 

“ _ Not my fault _ ? Of course it was my fault, Anshi! I’m the queen.  _ I’m _ the one who Kespa’s trying to kill.  _ I’m  _ the one whose life you were protecting. If I didn’t exist, you wouldn’t have any of these problems!”

“And if you didn’t exist, Dreya, what kind of life do you think we would have? We would be slaves. We would be killed and tortured and hunted like vermin for Kespa’s sport. What would become of our people? Our heritage?  _ What would become of me _ ?”

“Do you think I asked for this?!” Dreya demanded. “You think I want to live with the fate of a nation on my shoulders?”

“No, but I know you’re too smart to say no to it.”

“Leave me alone!” the queen screamed, body shaking with her contained sobs. “All that I do brings me nothing but pain!”

Anshi pulled back. She wasn’t sure how to respond, and she didn’t want to risk Dreya’s health in an argument.

“I don’t want to fight with you, sister.” she said. “But think about this as you obsess over your own pain. What do you suppose you bring me?”

There was silence for a long time, and Tamox felt he could count the seconds with the beats of his heart.

“Please.” Anshi said at last. “You’re the queen, whether you like it or not, Dreya. You have responsibilities. And… and we need you.”

After another agonizing pause, the dark-haired girl took a shuddering breath and replied.

“You’re right. I… I’ve been a fool.”

“I didn’t say that.” Anshi answered quietly.

“No, but it’s true.” Dreya said. “I’ve been so focused on myself that I forgot to let anyone in. To see that I wasn’t alone, that I had friends. I didn’t even see value in the people right in front of me. I’ve been awful to you, Tamox, and you’ve said nothing to me, and… and… and I’m sorry.”

Anshi said nothing, but Tamox could feel the tension going out of her. He reached out and touched Dreya’s shoulder, smiling a little.

“Thank you.” he said.

Finally, Dreya turned and faced her companions.

“We have to get out of here.” she said.

Anshi nodded in agreement, but Tamox frowned.

“Before we talk about that,” he said, “shouldn’t we prepare for the possibility of discovery? We’ve been fortunate so far, but what if we’re found out?”

“Fortune had nothing to do with it.” Anshi said. “It’s this place itself. Tamox, you and I are recognized as normal – you because you lived here, I because I was processed. Since we’ve rescued Dreya, she’s been shielded by this.”

Reaching into her bag, Anshi pulled out a small stone.

“It’s a talisman for shielding.” she said. “Queen Mayara gave it to my father when he became her captain, and he gave it to me when I left for the Guard. If placed in a room, it creates a false presence and prevents any magic from finding you.”

“That’s brilliant, Anshi.” Dreya said.

“I’m glad you think so. It was finding it that led me to your sword.” the blonde elf said, reaching behind her and passing her sister the weapon. Dreya took it and closed her eyes, relishing the weight in her hands.

“But what about before?” Tamox pressed. “Dreya was wandering around before she was captured.”

“Probably Kespa sensed her.” Anshi said. “But when you’re asleep or unconscious, you’re undetectable. It keeps things clear in Kespa’s head.”

“How would you know what’s in Kespa’s head?” Dreya asked.

“When she was probing my mind – ”

“She probed your  _ mind _ ?”

“Not now, Dreya. The past is past.”

“Not when -!” 

“But when she was doing that, I broke through her defenses. I was able to find out a few things about this fortress.”

“Like what?” Dreya asked.

“Like the portal at the gates.”

“That’s  _ perfect _ !” Tamox cried. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that!”

“Can someone explain to the injured member of the group what’s going on?” Dreya asked. 

“The main gates of Kespa’s fortress have a portal integrated into them.” Tamox said.

“It will take Kespa anywhere in the forest she wants to go.” Anshi said. “All she has to do is tell it where to take her.”

“How does this help us?” Dreya asked. “Last I heard, none of us was Kespa.”

“Well, that’s the difficulty.” Anshi said. “But Dreya, you’ve got a strong will. I’m sure you can convince it you’re Kespa.”

“Really?” the queen inquired. “Are you sure?”

“It can’t be that difficult.” Tamox said. “I mean, think about Anshi breaking into Kespa’s mind. That was under  _ torture. _ ”

“Don’t underestimate her.” Dreya replied. “Anshi, not to detract from what you did, but Kespa wasn’t exactly focused on protecting herself. And a mind probe practically  _ invites  _ reverse invasion. Don’t forget that.”

“Let’s try it, Dreya!” Anshi insisted. “Please? We have to get back home. You know that.”

Dreya shook her head.

“Fine.” she agreed. Then, her eyes narrowed slyly as an idea occurred to her. “But we’re not leaving without wreaking a bit of havoc at the same time.” 

Tamox rolled his eyes. 

“Dreya, no more than thirty Myrl.” he said forcefully. “You’re recovering from an overdose of one of the deadliest poisons in the forest.” 

Dreya glared at him like a child about to throw a particularly nasty tantrum. 

“THIRTY?” she exploded angrily. “What kind of a number is THAT? I average at least one hundred per altercation.” 

“You’re a liar.” Anshi grinned. “You’ve never killed one hundred Myrl at once in your life.”

Dreya scowled.

“I may have exaggerated things a bit, but it’s perfectly justifiable!”

“How?” Tamox asked. “You don’t need to impress me.”

“Fine.” the queen sighed. “But thirty? It’s almost too easy.”

“Actually, it’s the perfect number.” Anshi told her friend. “Kespa assigns thirty Myrl to guard the gate.” 

“Fine.” Dreya said, her mind already forming a plan to supplement the information. “Here’s an idea: we’ll disguise ourselves.” 

Anshi gave her an odd look. 

“Dreya, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m in no condition to perform any sort of transformation through disguise. Who would we impersonate, anyway?” 

“Relax.” Dreya said. “I’ll go as Kespa. Anshi… you’d make a perfect servant.” 

“But there aren’t any Ilviren servants here.”

“None that we know of. And besides, if you’re with me there’s no reason anyone would question you.”

Tamox sat up. “What can I be?”

Dreya looked him over and smirked. “Tamox, you can be a Myrl.”

“WHAT?” he cried. “Why can’t Anshi be the Myrl?” 

“Tamox, she doesn’t have the ears for it.” 

He growled and muttered a few choice words under his breath. “Fine.” he finally said. “I’m going to go find some charcoal. I can’t have them recognizing me, now can I?” 

No sooner had he slipped out than Dreya and Anshi collapsed into fits of hysterical laughter. 

“Did you see his face?” Dreya cried. 

“I can’t believe he actually agreed to do it.” Anshi said. “I thought he’d surely refuse.” 

“Oh, Tamox knows what’s good for him.” Dreya answered. “He also knows that, recovering or not, if he refuses I will punch him through a wall.”

* * *

Kespa sighed, glaring at the Myrl before her.

“What do you mean, ‘there have been thefts’? I KNOW there have been thefts, you worthless  _ clod _ !” 

The scarlet-haired queen leaned forward on her throne and pointed a deadly-sharp nail at the squirming messenger.

“MY clothing has been stolen.” she said. “MY armor has been pilfered. MY kitchens have been raided. Is that all you can tell me, that  _ there have been thefts _ ?”

“M-m-milady, w-what do y-you wish t-to know?” the Myrl asked. She (one of the few females kept as servants for their creator’s fortress) shivered. Kespa was  _ not _ the person to bring bad news to.

“ _ What do I wish to know? _ ” Kespa cried, seizing a vase from the end-table beside her seat and hurling it at the messenger; flinching, the Myrl did not move. 

“I wish to know,” the dark elf thundered, “ _ who _ is doing this! It’s been going on for nearly a week, and  _ you  _ inconsequential specks I was foolish enough to call servants have done absolutely  _ nothing  _ about it!”

“I-I-” began the Myrl cautiously.

“What do I wish to know?” the raging queen continued, “I wish to know the answer! I wish to know why some unidentified thief has managed to steal fifteen potatoes, a bag of rice, a pan, and cloves from my pantry! I wish to know what happened to the charcoal for the ink! And, above all, I wish to know why my servants obviously don’t care for their own lives enough to get me these answers!”

The Myrl scurried out of the throne room without a second glance, and Kespa sighed and closed her eyes. Something very unusual was going on.

* * *

“Are - are you sure this is going to work?” 

“Of course I am.” Anshi said. “I’m the one trained in disguise, after all.”

“Yes,” Dreya agreed as she stirred the heavy pan filled with a cloves-and-water mixture. “But, you know, we didn’t have to build a fire in here, did we?”

“I second that.” Tamox coughed from the corner, where he was busy fitting the ill-made Myrl armor to his lanky body. “I can barely  _ breathe _ , Anshi.”

“It’s just a little smoke.” Anshi replied. “Stop complaining.”

Dreya sighed as she stirred the mixture. “Is this…  _ thing _ … almost done?”

“Let me look.” 

Anshi bent over the fire and sniffed, eyeing the pan with a cursory expression. 

“I suppose it will have to do.” she said. “I wish we had some carrot juice, or even a bit of bitterbean.”

“ _ Bitterbean? _ ” Dreya asked. “Why on earth? It tastes horrible.” 

“But it makes a deeper shade of red. And if we used rosehips along with the cloves, it would enhance the highlights.”

“You know a lot about this.” Tamox said from the corner.

“We had to be fully trained in concealment, both magical and nonmagical, in order to be on the Guard. I studied for six cycles to pass the evaluation.” the blonde elf explained. “That was just before my training in herb lore.”

“I understand.” Tamox said.

Anshi lifted the pan off the makeshift stand she’d crafted for it, and set it aside.

“Dreya, be careful on this part. You have to put your hair into the water, but  _ don’t let the pan touch your neck. _ It would scald your skin right off.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Dreya inquired, moving away from the smoking flames. “The water’s not outside the pan, is it?”

“Use these.” Tamox said, tossing a bundle of cloth at Dreya. She caught it and grimaced.

“It stinks of Myrl.”

“And you’re in a position to complain because…?” Tamox inquired.

“Point taken.” Dreya sighed. “What are these?”

“I’m not sure.” Tamox admitted. “They were wrapping parts of the armor.”

“Whatever they are, they’ll serve our purpose.” Anshi said, coating the side of the pan with them. “Most armor wrappings are conditioned against fire, so hopefully they’ll keep you safe. Ready?”

Dreya sighed. “I suppose.” she said, leaning back and lowering her head into the steaming brew. “This had better work.”

* * *

“How do I look?” Dreya asked, running her fingers through her newly-colored hair.

“Convincing.” Anshi said. “Only…”

“Only what?” Tamox asked.

“Her eyes.” Anshi said. “And the hairstyle’s not right.”

Tamox moved closer and scrutinized Dreya’s face.

“She’s right.” he said. “You work on the eyes, Anshi.”

“I can’t. There’s nothing we have for that.” Anshi replied. “Besides, I’m in the middle of my own transformation at the moment.” She carefully peered at herself in the flat of Dreya’s blade, smoothing her hair and studying her eyebrows. She’d worked hard plucking them into their current arches. “Just because you only had to slip into a suit of armor and cover yourself with that unbearable dust doesn’t mean the rest of us change that easily.”

“Fine.” Tamox sighed. “Forget the eyes. I’ll fix her hair.” He reached up and began rearranging her bangs. 

“Hey!” Dreya cried, stepping back. “Give me some warning, could you?”

Tamox flinched, and then swore under his breath.

“Flames! I forgot!”

“Forgot what?” Anshi asked.

“The shoes.”

“The what?”

“The shoes!” he insisted. “Kespa wears a pair of red shoes made from sap when she’s in the castle. They let people know she’s coming.”

Anshi frowned. “That is a problem.”

“Couldn’t we just say I’m going out?” Dreya asked. “The shoes can’t be too practical, can they?”

“No,” Tamox admitted, “but she has another pair of boots to wear for when she does leave.”

“Hmm.” Anshi said. “We could try anyway.”

“What?” Tamox cried.

“We don’t need to convince Kespa, only her Myrl.” Anshi said. “They’ll be terrified if Dreya even speaks to them.”

“Yes.” the queen agreed. “All I need is the attitude of a murderess.”

“And the hair of the person you’re trying to intimidate.” Tamox insisted, reaching up once more to style Dreya’s hair. After a few moments, he stepped back with a pleased expression.

“There. It’s perfect.”

“Good.” Anshi said, adjusting her stolen shirt of dark mail one final time. She reached over and handed Dreya her sword.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

Dreya nodded, sliding the blade back into its scabbard. “Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

Dreya moved slowly, her steps deliberate. It was remarkably easy playing Kespa, all she had to do was act imposing and everyone passed her by without a word. Of course, the dizzy spells and sickly demeanor had presented obstacles, but apparently Kespa was usually unnaturally pale. Anshi was always at her side in case of another bout of nausea, steadying Dreya while appearing to be no more than a lieutenant. Tamox occasionally whispered a direction or two to point Dreya down the right hall, but he largely let her do the navigating. 

“You’re doing great.” he whispered. “It’s just up and out now.”

“The library!” Dreya cried suddenly, stopping in her tracks. “We have to do something about the library!” 

“What library?” Anshi asked.

“The Norigoth library.” Dreya said. At Anshi’s questioning look, she rolled her eyes. “ _ Mel _ , Anshi. Remember?”

Anshi shook her head. 

“No.” she said. “She would say that life is more important.” 

“But-!” 

“It’ll have to wait.” Anshi concluded, taking Dreya’s shoulders and pointing her towards the main corridor. “That’s our route. Now march!” Reluctantly, Dreya turned down the corridor and began to walk.

Finally, they reached the main doors. 

“It’s now or never.” Anshi whispered. Dreya nodded and took a deep breath. If anything showed, even the slightest hint of weariness or youth, the Myrl at the gate would kill her without hesitation. 

But… somehow, she couldn’t move.

“What is it?”

Anshi’s whisper was almost inaudible, but Dreya flinched as she heard it.

“I… I can’t. What if they can tell? I don’t have the Medallion on me, and I’m too young to be a good Kespa. I’m scarcely past my halfage as it is. And you said it yourself, my eyes aren’t right.” 

Anshi gave her a gentle push. “Come on, Dreya. You’ll be perfect.”

“What?” The queen’s voice was harsh from weakness. “No! I’ll fail! We should just go back now.”

“Dreya,” the soldier said, “think of us. If you can’t be strong for yourself, please try for us. We’ll all die if you can’t do this.”

Dreya stiffened.

“Alright.”

“Here.” Anshi said, pressing something into her friend’s hand. ”Take this.”

Dreya looked down. It was the shield talisman.

“But Anshi, what about you?”

“We’re part of this place, remember? You’re the only one not normal around here.”

Dreya smiled in spite of the situation.

“Thank you, sister.” she said.

She took a deep breath and slowly pushed the doors open, stepping forward into the courtyard.

* * *

The Myrl instantly snapped to attention. 

“Milady!” one cried, obviously surprised to see her. 

“Yes.” Dreya replied, trying to keep her voice cold and dangerous.  _ I wish I knew what she sounded like! _

“What do you want?” another asked nervously. Dreya gave her best evil smile.  _ Hope this works… _

“I’m going out.” she said.  _ Please, please don’t question me. _

“Out?” a third said. “Your highness, you haven’t been out in a very long time.” 

“Well, I’m leaving. Anyone want to argue?” 

Dreya drew her sword slowly and began to clean it with her skirt. Nausea began to creep into her stomach, but if she didn’t kill the Myrl, the plans were useless. 

The eyes of the nearest guard got very large as Dreya polished the blade, and he began to stutter throughout his attempts to talk. 

“Milady-well-um-we don’t have orders to let anyone out.” 

Dreya froze. This was bad.  _ What would Kespa do? _ It wasn’t as if this would stop the mistress of this secret palace. Thinking fast and trying to act as if this was just another lifeless slave, she walked over to the stuttering guard, raised her sword, and stabbed him. 

The others were dead silent. 

“Boring conversation anyway.” Dreya muttered as she pulled her blade free of the lump.  _ Thank the Fates. _ An idea struck, and she smiled. It was a very good thing Tamox wasn’t here.

“Oh, and just to let you know, I’m not Kespa.”

The Myrl waited only a moment before charging her.

* * *

Anshi and Tamox stuck their heads around the door to gape at Andreya, twisting and slashing her way through the mass of guards. 

“She’s amazing!” Tamox cried as Dreya stabbed out, ducked to avoid two Myrl who then gutted each other, and finished with a nice twist ending in an impaled Myrl. 

“We have to focus on protecting her.” Anshi reminded him. “We can’t be distracted by her.”

“What was that?”

“What?”

“She just dropped something.” Tamox said. “I saw it break.”

“What did it look like?”

“It was flat, kind of like a rock.”

“What?” Anshi’s voice took on an edge of panic. “The talisman? She dropped it?”

“I - I’m not sure.” Tamox said. “Maybe not.”

“If she broke that, she’s in danger.”

Tamox froze. 

“I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Of course you hadn’t.”

“I think she’s almost done.”

“Hopefully you’re right.” Anshi commented.

* * *

Kespa sat bolt-upright in her chair.

_ What is that? _

She scanned her sanctum out of habit, and felt a dart of ice race towards her heart.

_ There’s someone here. _

_ In my home.  _

Rising from her seat, she matter-of-factly summoned one of the many squadrons of defenders she kept ready for just such a purpose. 

_ Let’s give them a welcoming they’ll never forget. _

* * *

Tamox heard the Myrl approach before he saw them. The squadron barreled down the halls toward his and Anshi’s post by the main doors; following close behind them was a tall figure dressed in red.

_ Flames, no. _

Tamox kicked the doors shut and stood as a final vanguard against the enemy, his heart freezing when he saw the woman. Anshi gripped her sword tightly and prepared for the fight of her life.

_ Kespa. _

* * *

Dreya had some trouble with dizzy spells brought on by her acrobatics, but eventually the Myrl were all dead. Head throbbing with pain, she started for the gate, but then saw that the doors to the castle were closed. Against her better judgment, Dreya walked over and opened them.  _ It’s safe now, why keep them out? _

Gasping, Tamox practically fell into her arms. 

“You beat them already?” he cried. 

Dreya nodded. 

“And the talisman?” he continued. “Is that it, over there? In pieces?”

The queen shrugged. 

“At least we’re safe.” she said.

Tamox shook his head.

“Get out!” he shouted, standing up and darting back inside. “Get away! She’s here!” 

A cold dread filled the queen as she heard the words. She realized then that the shattered talisman had been her only protection. Because now, Kespa was here. Here and willing to kill.

* * *

Tamox watched Dreya run for the gate and the spellbound portal out. 

“We have to keep them out of the courtyard!” he told Anshi. She nodded and speared a Myrl on her recovered longsword. Tamox aimed Dreya’s bow and fired a volley in Kespa’s vicinity-he’d been practicing while Dreya slept. The usurper queen had arrived after her underlings, silent in the wings. She hadn’t joined yet, preferring to watch in amused silence. 

_ She wouldn’t smile like that if she knew that Dreya was here _ . Anshi thought grimly. That was her only objective - protect Dreya while she tried to break the trigger. It was true; she was the only one who could do it.  _ Andreya, we’re all counting on you. _

* * *

Dreya closed her eyes and tried to focus on the gate. She would only get into the mechanism if she eliminated all else from her mind. Finally, she slipped into the device. The contact was sharp and painful, evidence that it was only designed for one mind-Kespa’s. 

_ I have to break it. _ Dreya thought painfully, but it was too much for her battered body to handle. Any act of mental magic must be backed by physical strength, and the estril pollen had decimated the teen’s muscles.  _ It hurts, but I have to try… _

* * *

Tamox was getting desperate. He was almost out of arrows, even though he was recycling them over and over again. Anshi looked tired-the longsword wasn’t designed for one hand, and using it wrong made for an awkward time of it. He had no choice- he had to talk to Dreya.  _ This has to end. _

“DREYA!” he screamed. “DO IT! NOW!”

* * *

The call instantly attuned Kespa to Tamox. He was grasping the door as if his life depended on it. While she clearly remembered throwing him out, she was too impressed with his progress to be angry-his Myrl heritage was finally showing. But wait. He had just called for - for  _ Dreya! _ Was this blonde child really the one she had been searching for? No, upon scanning her mind the murderess recalled the elf’s name was Anshi Hitaro. So was there someone else…

_ Of course! The door!  _

Kespa stretched out her hand and called on the Medallion. Instantly the doors were wrenched open and Tamox was thrown into the courtyard. Anshi turned and fled after him, to someone at the gate who looked remarkably like Kespa herself. 

_ My gown!  _

Realization struck - so  _ that’s _ what the thefts were for. Escape. Frowning, the queen sent a wave of magic-laced water splashing over the escaped prisoners. That would free them from their annoying disguises. When they were visible, Kespa again saw the Tamox she was familiar with, and the pale figure at the gate had lost her red hair-evidently she’d used dye. 

So this was Dreya.

* * *

Dreya felt the water crashing over her, heard Anshi and Tamox screaming at her, but she could do nothing. She was lost to the world, trapped within a futile struggle between her and the portal. It was as if she was dying, flying away from the physical plane. Suddenly, she sensed something close, a power that was warm and inviting. It wasn’t quite alive, but it had great strength. Maybe it could give her energy. When Dreya reached out with her mind, she could feel it, tap into it…

…and she did. 

Anshi watched in shock as the gates flew open and Dreya stood slowly, shaking. Evidently the trigger was broken. Kespa seemed frozen also, horror on her face as Dreya turned and looked at her. Tamox ran to the gate, and Kespa just watched as Anshi followed. Dreya turned away from her friends and exited into the swirling fog of the portal. 

The usurper dashed after her, seemingly out of her trance. She was stopped, however, by the gates. They crashed down at Anshi’s heels as Dreya vanished into the mists.

* * *

Kespa was astonished. This pathetic child had appeared out of nowhere, had defeated her dragon serpent, had slain her most trusted lieutenant, and now had used the Medallion for her own purposes! Why, and most importantly, how? How had a millennium of peace suddenly produced this warrior? As Kespa stood before her ruined gates, she knew one thing-she would find an answer. This blinding darkness would not last much longer.

* * *

Dreya emerged from the swirling mist in familiar woods, but her brain barely registered the fact. She took one step and collapsed into Anshi’s arms.

“Are you all right?” Anshi asked, sinking to the ground to allow Dreya’s legs some rest.

“It hurt…” Dreya moaned.

“Is there pain now?”

“I… I just… just need… to rest…”

Tamox stood in the warm sunlight and looked around. “I don’t know about the journey there,” he said, “but that was amazing!” 

Anshi glared at him. “Tamox, do something useful and go pick some spearmint.” 

“Why?” 

“Spearmint disrupts tracking spells. If Kespa wants to know where we are, I’m not giving her more than the barest minimum. And since  _ someone _ broke my shield talisman, that herb’s our only option.” 

Tamox nodded and ran off into the woods while Anshi helped Dreya sit up. 

“Where are we?” the queen asked softly, her voice thin and strained. The effort of breaking the portal’s trigger had almost killed her.

“Home.” Anshi answered. “We’re about a mile from it.” She was outwardly optimistic, but inwardly the teen was worried. Dreya looked horribly weak. 

“Where’s Tamox?” she was asking. 

“He’s off finding some spearmint.” 

Dreya frowned as best she could. “Anshi, do you really think we’re being tracked?” 

“I don’t know.” she sighed. “What happened back there, Dreya? What did you do?”

The queen’s answer was little more than a whisper. 

“It wasn’t me. There was power… somehow, there was power.”

* * *

Tamox wandered aimlessly, his search complicated by the fact that he didn’t know what spearmint looked like.  _ I would go back and ask… but then Anshi would probably kill me.  _ He was examining a small, low-growing plant when a sound reached his ears. It was a crashing sound, and when he turned to investigate he was nearly decapitated by a flying brown blur. 

“Hey!” he cried. “Watch where you’re flying!” The blur slowed, turned, and finally came to a stop in a tree. It was a Quirlwing, looking at him with fear in its huge eyes. Its fur was ratty, and the feathers on its wings were limp and broken in places.

“Are you all right?” Tamox asked.

The creature shook its head, its breathing rapid and shallow. A trembling paw reached up to point outward. “No time!” it whispered. “No time!”

“What do you mean,  _ no time _ ? Tamox asked, turning to face what the Quirlwing was pointing at. “There’s plenty of - oh.”

Four Myrl were crashing through the undergrowth, their eyes locked onto the Quirlwing behind him.

“Well,” Tamox muttered, “time to see how I fare on my own.” He pulled Anshi’s knife from his belt and dropped into a fighting stance. 

“Come on,” he said, “let’s make this quick!”

The head of the party gave a cry and sent his blade out to meet Tamox’s knife. The smaller blade deftly twisted free, controlled by a steady hand, and plunged into the shoulder of the Myrl. 

“Poor reaction time.” Tamox observed. “Something Kespa obviously tried to improve.”

The next two Myrl, both female, tried attacking in concert. Tamox jumped ahead of their swords as they then fatally stabbed each other. The final opponent proved somewhat harder to defeat, his fighting style much more fluid.

“You’re good,” Tamox confessed as he jumped a swing meant for his legs, “but not good enough.” He caught the Myrl’s sword-arm by the wrist when it came at his head and slid his knife into the enemy’s chest cavity. Moments later, the only evidence remaining of the skirmish was four piles of sludge and a few discarded scimitars.

Tamox turned his attention back to the tree. The Quirlwing hadn’t moved, but its breathing was more steady and it seemed to have recovered from the chase.

“Who are you?” he asked, stepping towards the tree. He closed his eyes and gave a long, slow nod, similar to Dreya’s gesture when she first met Cassy.

“Y-you first.” it answered in a feminine voice, trembling with fear. “Who are  _ you _ ?”

Tamox raised an eyebrow.  _ Is she afraid of  _ me _? _

“I’m a friend.” he said, his meeting with Krysty leaving him wary of revealing his name. “I’m with the elves.”

“What?” she cried, backing up the tree. “Then- you- you’ll think that I-”

“That you what?” Tamox asked. He stared up at the Quirlwing. “Did you do something wrong?”

“NO!” she screamed with surprising force. Tamox stepped closer and she tried to disappear into the tree. “I don’t care what you think.” she continued, tears beginning to well in her eyes. “I DIDN’T KILL HER!!” After repeating this in between gasps for awhile, she began crying inconsolably. Any more words were lost in sobs. 

“It’s all right.” Tamox said, reaching up and gently stroking her as Dreya had when Cassy was frightened. “I believe you.” he said. 

The sobbing stopped. 

“Y-you do?” 

The girl’s head shot up. Her eyes were wild and feral, filled with fear. “How can you believe me?” 

“I don’t know much about life.” Tamox answered, turning to walk away. 

“Wait.” the Quirlwing cried. He stepped back as the Quirlwing slipped back down the tree to perch at eye level. She wiped her eyes with one paw and peered closely at his face. “I wonder…” she murmured, then shook her head. “No.” she said. “Impossible.”

“No more impossible than a disappearing corpse.” Tamox said, remembering the monster they fought that left no trace of its body.

The Quirlwing frowned. “Tamox?” she asked tentatively. “Is that you? You’re really here?”

Tamox started back. “What?” he cried. “How…?” He looked harder at the Quirlwing, suddenly seeing a familiar gleam in her grey eyes…

“Cassy?” he cried, joy reappearing unexpectedly. “You’re alive!” 

“I’m the one who should be talking.” she answered, preening her feathers and sniffling away her tears. “You’ve been gone two years, and we’re back at war! Finally someone can straighten it all out.” Tamox frowned. 

“War? What’s happened? When we left, the Elves weren’t even considering fighting Kespa!”

“Kespa’s annihilating the Xarn. The Elves are furious and fighting her again, and everyone hates me. They think I killed Dreya because I have ‘unnatural abilities’.” Tamox offered his shoulder, and Cassy fluttered down to perch on it. 

“Come on.” he said. “Oh, um, right – is there any spearmint around? Dreya needs it to disrupt tracking spells.” Cassy frowned, but closed her eyes and furrowed her brow in concentration. Suddenly, a patch of herbs started glowing with a soft gold aura. 

“Pick it.” Cassy commanded. 

“How did you learn  _ that _ ?” Tamox remarked as he picked some of the glowing herb. “I mean, no wonder the Elves were unsettled! Oh- is this spearmint?” 

“Yes. And to answer your question, I don’t know. It started happening a few weeks after you disappeared. I went back to territory I knew and found some Elf scouts. They blindfolded me and took me to their city, and I told their leader about what happened. But I managed to turn them all against me.”

“How?”

“Apparently Krysty had a brother still in Tralnrt. He didn’t want to accept that she was a traitor, and he started accusing me of lying. He said he had records that she was killed in the Battle of the Two Streams, fighting Kespa. Naturally, I got upset - he was accusing me of murdering Dreya, after all - and, since I was emotionally affected, I caused another explosion. Remember the pine woods?”

Tamox let out a low whistle. “Did you damage the city?”

“No, it was built magically and wasn’t harmed at all. But one of the courtiers was injured, and that was enough for this brother to gain a foothold and convince the elves that I killed Dreya and was blaming Krysty to cover it up. They even told me if it was an accident, they’d forgive me.”

“But you were innocent!”

“I told them that, but they got angry. Their leader, her name was Melane, she got really upset. Called me all sorts of nasty names. So I left, but they tried to hunt me down, and then somehow the Xarn found out about it. Now, not even my own people will have me. Everyone thinks I’m a killer.”

“I’m sorry.” Tamox said. “It’s not your fault, and now Krysty’s brother has everyone convinced you’re dangerous.”

“I heard he left, though. After she died. So he must have believed me.”

Tamox sighed. “Let’s not talk about it. We need to set things right for you.”

“Where are we going, then? Back to Tralnrt?”

“No. First we’re going to prove that you can’t have killed someone if she’s still alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when Dreya and Anshi reunite just imagine like. The world's most tormentedly angsty makeout session. It belongs there.


	10. The Return of Lady Dreya

Dreya and Anshi were talking together softly when Tamox came out of the forest. Dreya was sitting up, with Anshi’s arm around her shoulders. She looked pale, but much more aware of her surroundings. 

“Oh, did you get the spearmint?” Anshi asked. Dreya stood up slowly to greet him, one hand gripping Anshi’s shoulder, and a smile spread over her face as she saw the newcomer. Her eyes widened disbelievingly. 

“Cassy?” she asked, smiling faintly. “I thought you were dead!” The Quirlwing stared in shock for a moment, and then she flung herself off of Tamox, flying to Dreya like a furry torpedo.

“DREYA! You’re alive!” she cried, hugging the queen furiously around the neck and nearly knocking her over. “Now people won’t hate me anymore!”

Dreya frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Everyone thinks I killed you because of my mental abilities. I can locate things, read minds, influence thought… stuff like that.” 

Dreya looked impressed. “Well, I guess that explosion was a good thing.” she said. 

Cassy hovered for a while, her eyes focused on Anshi. 

“I’m Cassy.” she said brightly, her earlier fear gone. “Who are you?” Anshi smiled and nodded with eyes closed, just as Dreya had when she and Cassy first met. 

“Any friend of Dreya’s is a friend of mine. I’m Anshi Hitaro.” 

Cassy’s eyes bugged out and she stared at the girl before her. “I thought you were dead!” she exclaimed. 

“Apparently that was an illusion engineered by Krysty.” Tamox said. “As you can see, she’s quite alive.” 

Cassy smiled. “Dreya, it’s good to have you back.” she said. “I’m sure that things will be all right now.” 

“What do you mean by that?” Dreya asked. 

“Well, I think we need to head to wherever you elves live, don’t you?” Cassy said. “There’s a lot of change that you’ll have to deal with, and better now than later.”

* * *

Dreya slowly climbed down the ladder, Anshi following with one eye on her friend. Tamox and Cassy brought up the rear, the Quirlwing having just finished explaining her predicament to Dreya.

“I’ll set it right as soon as we get there.” Dreya assured her. “I promise.”

“If we make good time, we can reach Tralnrt in ten minutes.” Anshi said. 

Cassy looked over to Tamox. “What’s Tralnrt?” 

“It’s the current home of the elves.” he explained. “The city you were taken to. I was there, apparently two years ago. It’s pretty amazing.” 

“Amazing?” Dreya asked. “Tralnrt’s not just amazing. It’s home, it’s beautiful…it’s where I was crowned queen… it’s where I belong.” Her strength seemed to have returned, though it probably wasn’t permanent. Anshi sighed, a wistful tone in her voice. 

“It’s been two years since I’ve seen it.” she said. “I wonder, are things the same?”

The time spent navigating the labyrinth was largely passed in individual thought. Dreya was contemplating the best way to announce her return when the border guards melted out of the shadows. 

“Who goes there?” one asked. Dreya sighed and turned to face them, leaning into the light and revealing her face. Amber torchlight reflected off of sunken and pale cheeks. The scar was still an ugly violet, and her eyes seemed to leap out of their sockets with a haggard and grim stare, but the identity of the face was unmistakable.

“Lady Andreya?” one finally stammered. 

“Yes, Endra. It is I.” 

Both guards were astounded. 

“But you’ve been missing for years!” Endra finally stammered. “Melane said you had passed on!” 

Dreya sighed again before answering. 

“Melane is wrong, Endra. I still live. Despite actions taken by Myrl, Kespa, and a traitorous magic-user  _ I still live _ .”

* * *

Melane sighed as she gazed out at Tralnrt from the balcony over the main doors, auburn hair spilling over one shoulder. Her mind rolled once more over her miserable state of existence, and it arrived for the hundredth time at the conclusion there was nothing that she could do. Ever since Dreya had died, things had gone horribly wrong. Valeria had managed to get herself into the ruling position, and this pleased absolutely no one except for the new queen herself. Hated and distrusted by nearly all the elves in Tralnrt (and disliked strongly by the rest), she was a spoiled, self-satisfying brat of a ruler. She was more interested in the prestige and wealth that came with the role of queen then in actually ruling her people. Furthering the problem was the fact that Valeria’s command ability and fighting skills were worse then her temperament. In the two years of all-out war, no battles had been won, unlike under Lumine or Mayara. There wouldn’t even have been a war if Melane hadn’t stepped in to defend the Xarn and change Valeria’s mind. Now, though, even the confidence of Valeria’s most steadfast advisors was waning. Nothing was right.

Suddenly, there was a great commotion on the streets below. Her curiosity roused for the first time in months, Melane looked down to see a gathering of torches, and the sounds of an excited crowd.  _ I wonder what’s happening. _ she thought.  _ Perhaps the people have finally rebelled against Valeria! _ That was too much to hope for, even though every elf in existence (and some who had recently left it) had at least one grievance with the queen. In all of recorded elven-history, there had been no revolutions. Nobody was going to start one now.  _ I’ll have to go down and see. _ Melane decided.  _ After all, it might be important… _

* * *

Melane flung open the doors to the outside, despite cries of warning from the doorkeepers. A wall of people greeted her, all talking at once. She fought her way out, but the masses of Elves prevented her from seeing anything. Multiple conversations were heard in snippets all around. 

“She’s back!” someone cried. Melane frowned. Who was back? At last, she came through the crowds to the center. Standing amidst the buzz and excitement were three figures. To her joy, Melane recognized Tamox from that fateful day two years ago, and a Quirlwing stood perched on his shoulder. Wait. That was Cassy… she’d killed Dreya! 

“What are you doing here?” Tamox turned with Cassy.

“Miss Melane? Are you all right?” he asked.

“No!” Melane cried. “Not while that… that  _ thing _ who murdered my best friend’s daughter stands before me!”

“Mel, lay off of Cassy.” 

Melane turned and came face-to-face with Anshi Hitaro.

“Wha…?”

“She’s innocent.” Anshi announced. “It was all a misunderstanding.”

“But… but you… you’re…”

Then, Melane heard a voice that made her heart twist inside of her. 

_ It can’t be… _

“Excuse me, but I think I live here. Move, please!” Melane whirled to face Dreya. She had taken her typical stance-one hand on her hip, head cocked in a manner suggestive of both defiance and friendliness. The elves she was addressing stared openmouthed and finally shuffled away from the doors. 

“By the fire, how it is possible?” Melane murmured. 

Dreya froze, one hand on the door. Turning her head, she watched as the crowds parted and her guardian stepped into view. She let go of the handle and smiled warmly, her cold demeanor gone. 

“Mel, I’m home.” she said softly. 

Melane slowly stepped towards her charge, and they embraced in a flurry of tears.

“I thought you were lost!” Melane cried, holding the teen in a tight embrace. 

“I haven’t been killed yet.” Dreya answered through her own sobs. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d miss me.” 

Melane brushed away a tear and pushed Dreya to arms length. 

“Andreya, you are like my daughter. I don’t know what I’d do without you around to frustrate me.” 

Dreya smiled again, but something was different in her face. 

“What’s wrong?” Melane asked. 

“I’m fine…just tired.” Dreya answered.

“Don’t lie to me, Dreya.”

“Honestly, Mel, it’s nothing. I just haven’t been feeling well lately.”

She began to tremble then, just a little. Anshi looked at Tamox, and they began to move towards Dreya. Cassy fluttered to the queen from Tamox’s shoulder.

“Dreya?” Anshi called. “Dreya?” Dreya didn’t say anything. A few tears slipped down her cheek. Suddenly her eyes slipped shut, she gave an almost-silent moan, and her legs gave out beneath her in a faint. Melane, gentle as ever, caught her as she fell and sank to the street with the unconscious teen in her arms. It was painfully obvious now - Dreya was changed. Besides the mark on her cheek, there was a rough gash on her head surrounded by bruises. Her body was limp and devoid of any sort of strength. 

“What happened?” the librarian asked, her molten eyes burning into Anshi for answers. 

“She was poisoned. It’s estril pollen.” the other girl explained. 

“Estril pollen?” Melane cried. “Where did Dreya get poisoned with estril pollen? And where did  _ this _ come from?” 

She pointed to the bruises and gash as Anshi walked over and knelt by her friend, placing one hand on Dreya’s shoulder. 

“It’s difficult to explain, Melane.” 

“ _ Difficult to explain? _ I’m her  _ guardian! _ You can  _ explain _ anything to me, Anshi.”

“It’s not my place to tell you, and I don’t know the full story!”

“WHAT IN THE FLAMES HAPPENED TO HER?” Melane cried. “Anshi, what is so terrible that you can’t tell me?” 

Anshi sighed and looked to Tamox. 

“Should I?” she asked. 

He nodded. 

“Melane,” she said, “Dreya was captured by Kespa. We know she was interrogated at least once, and it’s safe to assume that the estril pollen was administered to allow her capture.” 

The other elf sank her head to her chest slowly, stroking Dreya’s hair. Yes…that made sense. 

“She hasn’t been forthcoming with details.” Anshi finished quietly, her eyes burning with anger. 

_ Oh, Andreya. Why did you not tell me? _ Melane felt the tears come again as rage consumed her. Dreya didn’t deserve that kind of brutality! One look at Anshi, though, moved her to action. The poor girl had lost half her arm. She was in just as much need of medical help as the queen in her arms. 

“Come, this way.” she said. “You both belong inside.”

* * *

When Dreya awoke this time, she felt no fear or insecurity, only peace and a strange relief. Light streamed into her eyes. Soft white surrounded her limp and bandaged form. 

“Where am I?” she muttered, moving a splinted arm off its pillow to pass her hand over her eyes. After that, Dreya saw a lot more clearly. She was in a brightly lit room somewhere, and Melane was bending over her. 

“Melane?” Dreya asked sleepily. “What happened?” 

The long sleep she took had cleared away her mind, the evil times she’d endured having only the sort of hold that a horrifying nightmare hovering just beyond conscious memory might have brought on. 

“You were sick, don’t you remember?” Melane answered, stroking her hair. 

This puzzled Dreya. 

“Sick? I don’t remember being sick… but if I was, I had the strangest dream.”

“Really?”

“I met this person named Tamox in the forest,” Dreya said, “and I was captured, and I fought, and…” 

“Hi, Dreya!!” The voice came from Tamox, who stood at the door waving. “How are you?” Dreya’s eyes widened as she heard it. Full memory flooded back. 

“It… it wasn’t a dream…” she whispered, and then she started to cry. 

“What is it?” Melane asked. 

“Mel, when I was in Kespa’s dungeon, I was… oh, I don’t want to remember. They took me and…” 

Her voice trailed off as Melane silenced her. 

“Don’t speak of it.” she said. “We all have our share of scars, you know.” The auburn-haired woman rolled up her sleeve to show an ugly knotted line slicing diagonally across her arm.

“It will pass in time.” she reassured.

“Maybe.” Dreya said, shuddering. “For now I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

“Well, how did you get out?” Melane asked. “Perhaps dwelling on something positive will help.”

“Our escape isn’t exactly positive.” Dreya replied, and told Melane of the disguises and her assault on the gatehouse trigger.

“You killed thirty Myrl?” Melane cried. “What on earth were you thinking?”

“I was the only one.” Dreya said. “What else was I supposed to do? But, to continue, after the Myrl were dead I set to breaking the trigger. It wasn’t easy work, by any means.”

“Did you have the strength?” Tamox asked. “You looked as if you needed help.”

“That’s the unusual part.” Dreya said. “I did need help, and I got it.”

“You got it?” Melane asked. “What do you mean?”

“I got the help I needed.” Dreya said. “Something happened, and suddenly I had the power and strength to break not only the trigger, but the gates as well.”

“And then you came home?”

“And then we came home.” Dreya finished.

“By the way, did you find out anything interesting?” Tamox asked from the door.

“What?” Dreya asked, shoving herself up on her elbows. 

“Back there-in the dungeon- you said you wanted information when you went to the upper levels.” Dreya nodded, the tears long gone. 

“Well, I wandered around. I didn’t get anything essential. Oh, wait- Mel, you won’t be happy. She’s got your books.” Melane, who had been preparing a fresh bandage for Dreya’s head, snapped her head around. 

“WHAT?” 

“Kespa’s got the Norigoth library. I walked through it.” 

The former librarian glared. 

“If she tears ONE STITCH on the binding of any of my books, I’ll-!” 

“Anshi!” Dreya called, smiling. “How are you?” Anshi stood in the doorway, cutting Melane off. Her right arm was carefully bandaged, and she had a cloak on to hide some of the more obvious marks of imprisonment.

“I’m all right.” the girl answered. “You?” 

“I live.” Dreya replied. “My head aches, and I still feel weak, but I live.”

“You’re improving.” Anshi noted. “The color is back in your face, and that scar isn’t such a violent shade of purple anymore.”

“The pain is gone.” Dreya noted, running her fingers along the wound. “But Mel, how have things been?”

“Not good.” Melane admitted. “We’re facing defeat in a war, and the current ruler would probably throw you in the dungeon if she knew you were back.”

“Current ruler?” Dreya asked, frowning. “But surely you’ve been ruling in my place!”

Melane shook her head. “Dreya, there is another with a claim to the throne, and she hasn’t let anyone else have it.” 

“Melane, who has been ruling while I’ve been away?” 

“Who do you think?” 

_ Oh, no. _

“VALERIA?” Dreya cried. “You actually let  _ Valeria _ rule my kingdom? No wonder things have gone to miserable states.” She glared. “Oh, just wait. Things  _ will _ get better. I’ll make sure of it.” Anshi couldn’t restrain a shriek of laughter. Tamox looked at her, confused. 

“Remember how she promised me that one day she’d rule? I just can’t wait to see her face when you come striding in, asking for your throne back!” she cried, shaking with mirth. 

“We told her she’d never rule.” Dreya explained to Tamox and Melane. “That was one of our favorite things to do during the war - annoy Valeria.” 

“Well, she probably won’t be happy when you return.” Melane said. 

“What do you think was the worst thing we did to her?” Anshi asked. 

“Oh, it was… it was that thing… that thing we did with the rocks and the pillowcases!”

Melane stared at Dreya. 

“Rocks and pillowcases?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in a motherly manner. 

“No, no, the worst was that time with the oil and feathers.” Anshi corrected. “You could hear her scream for miles.” 

Melane glared in shocked silence. “Oil and feathers? Dreya, what did you  _ do  _ to that poor girl? No wonder she hates you!” 

“We didn’t do much…” Dreya insisted unconvincingly. “Her gown gets a little messy, and she screams like Kespa’s invading!” 

“A little?” Anshi asked. “Dreya, that gown was ruined!” 

Melane sighed. “You know what?” she asked. “I don’t have to speculate. I  _ know _ she won’t be pleased when you show up asking for the throne back.”

* * *

Valeria was not happy.

It had been especially stressful lately, and today was no exception. Another military defeat, more casualties, and two more of her advisors had turned against her.  _ It’s a wonder the whole realm’s not gone to the flames yet…  _ she thought.  _ Ah well, at least I am queen. I am  _ _ finally _ _ queen. _

There was a sudden  _ crash _ as the doors to the throne room flew open.  _ Undoubtedly another mother or father or wife, come to beg me to bring the Guard home. No matter, they’ll soon be dealt with. _

“Guards, take care of that intrusion.” she said in a spoiled tone. There were better things to do than focus on it herself. The guards didn’t move, and suddenly Valeria heard a voice she thought she’d never have to deal with again.

“Excuse me, Valeria, but you’re sitting in my chair.” 

The current queen’s eyes flew to the doors where, to her horror, the “dead” ruler Andreya stood, arms crossed. An ugly scar traced across one cheek, and Valeria suspected she meant business. 

“What are you doing here?” Valeria asked airily, hiding shock and anger. 

“I’m taking back my kingdom.” Dreya answered. 

“Hmmm…” Valeria mused. “I don’t see this kingdom you keep talking about, Andreya.” She looked around the room at the various courtiers, and then she smiled. “Really, child. You’re unwell. Delirious.”

“Excuse me?”

“Listen to her!” Valeria laughed. “She’s ill! She actually  _ believes _ that she’s entitled to rule.” Dreya looked on, boring holes in her cousin with an icy glare. “Honestly,” Valeria continued, “how can you listen to such nonsense? Now, please remove this intruder from my court.”

None of the guards moved.

“Do you know where I spent the past two years,  **_Valeria_ ** ?” Dreya asked dangerously, one hand on her sword hilt. “I was in Kespa’s PRISON, fighting for my life while you sat around drinking wine and sending our people off to DIE in a war we can’t win! I lived through poison, fire, torture, battle and death to get here. I am NOT letting you stop me. Willingly or not, you will give me back my throne.” There was a deadly anger in Dreya’s eyes as she moved towards the roughly carved rock throne. 

“NO!” Valeria screamed back unexpectedly. Her snobbish indifference had turned rapidly to anger. Something was driving her, something that stripped away all her judgment. It was almost as if her mind had snapped. “You child! How dare you speak to me this way?” she cried. 

Dreya glared. 

“I am the ruler, Valeria. You cannot deny it.” 

The current queen glared back and stepped down from her throne. Dreya didn’t move as Valeria walked over to her and slapped her across the scarred side of her face. She then turned and walked back towards the throne, stopped by a sudden scream that burned with rage and death. 

“VALERIA!” 

The woman turned to see her scorned rival, a fire burning in her eyes. Just as she began to regret her actions, Dreya walked over and punched her in the nose.

* * *

“That was well done.” Melane told Dreya after Valeria had been carted away. “I hadn’t realized she hated you so much.” 

“Well, it was rather obvious, wasn’t it?” Dreya asked crossly as she reassumed her seat on the roughly hewn rock throne of Tralnrt. “I didn’t mean to break her nose, though. I hope she doesn’t hold it against me.” 

“We’ll never know.” Melane said. “Though I have my sources that say she was not quite herself.”

Dreya raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Melane began conspiratorially, “I heard from Lenore, her maid, that she’s taken to locking herself in her room. And she’s been crying a lot. Personally, I suspect nervous breakdown.”

Dreya shook her head. “Sad.” she said. “But perhaps she can heal.”

“Perhaps.” the librarian agreed. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

* * *

Kespa closed her eyes and sighed tiredly. Dreya had escaped - but only with the help of some spearmint. She couldn’t find her quarry again, and the elves were ecstatic and reunited under - oh, by the fire, could it really be that simple? Kespa cursed her stupidity, for now she saw.  _ Mayara, you fooled us all. _ Dreya was the heir to the throne-that was how she had survived. Any queen would see through Krysty, and any self-respecting Orifax would be able to dispatch a dragon serpent easily.  _ You little vixen… _ Kespa thought, her mind focused on Dreya.  _ You can’t hide from me. I will find you somehow. I promise you that. _

* * *

“Tell me again why I’m bedridden, Mel.”

“Honestly, Andreya. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you five thousand flaming times. You are injured. You need to get over a bad dose of estril pollen. You can  _ not  _ get out of that bed until the healers say so.”

“But I have to plan for a battle!”

“Let Anshi do the planning for once. The girl’s quite capable.”

“Yes.” Dreya admitted. “But I need Aril’s strategy. Where in flames is he?”

“Valeria demoted him when he went against her orders.”

“Idiot girl.” Dreya muttered for the tenth time that day. “I never should have left home.”

“Don’t blame yourself. I let you go.”

“But I could have refused.”

“Shut your mouth and  _ relax _ , your highness!”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ call me that again.”

“Only if you  _ go to sleep. _ ”

“There’s a  _ battle  _ tomorrow!”

“And does that concern you? No! Go to  _ sleep!” _

“Fine.” Dreya sighed. “You win. I just hope your luck holds tomorrow.”

* * *

Dreya opened her eyes and instantly regretted the action.  _ Foolish Melane.  _ she decided grumpily.  _ Idiotic healers. I can very well get up and fight. I did it once before, didn’t I?  _

Deciding to prove herself, the queen tightened what was left of her musculature and pushed herself slowly out of bed.

It was, needless to say, a bad idea. 

“Ow.” she muttered, gritting her teeth in frustration as pain shot through her entire right side. “So  _ that’s _ why Mel said I shouldn’t get up.”

“Need anything?” said a voice from the door.

“Only some company.” Dreya answered as Tamox stepped into her room.

“I’m afraid we’re not exactly the royal court.” Cassy commented from Tamox’s shoulder. 

“That’s fine.” Dreya remarked. “At the moment, I’d prefer the company of the two of you to any dignitary in history.”

“Poor taste.” Tamox said to Cassy, mock-shaking his head. “Must be an aftereffect of the poison.”

“I know.” Cassy said. “To think she’d rather be with us then the gems of society.”

“Stop it.” Dreya laughed. “Compared to Valeria, the two of you  _ are  _ the gems of society.”

“I thank you, milady.” Tamox said, dropping a quick bow.

Dreya responded by throwing a pillow at him.

“Keep your mouth shut! You’re going to get me killed!” Cassy cried, punching Tamox in the neck.

“Ow!” he cried. “What was  _ that  _ for?”

“I just told you.” the Quirlwing answered. “You almost got me flung across the room!”

“That wasn’t  _ my  _ fault.”

“Oh, of course not.” Cassy winked.

“Listen.” Dreya said. “This is going to sound crazy, but I’m going to get up.”

“What?”

“I said I’m going to get up. Now are you going to  _ help _ me, Tamox, or are you just going to sit there?”

“I… I guess…” he began, but then stopped. “I mean, I really shouldn’t, but…”

“Stop blathering!” Dreya snapped.

“Do make up your mind, Tamox. Could you do that much?” Cassy commented.

Tamox sighed. “Fine. But if you end up crippled for the rest of your life, don’t blame me.”

* * *

“Dreya, you do look awful. You need to take a rest.”

“I’m never going to get anywhere if I just sit around all the time.” the queen argued. 

“At least take a moment to catch your breath.” Cassy advised from her vantage point in midair.

“Dreya?”

It was Melane, coming toward the trio with an armful of blankets. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” she demanded.

“I’m walking.” Dreya said.

“Why? You can barely move! The healers said the antidote wouldn’t take effect for at least two more days!”

“I can’t  _ stand _ being cooped up like that, Mel.” Dreya sighed. “Please.”

But the librarian shook her head. “No. Back to bed.”

She moved to grab Dreya’s arm, and the two of them left for the healers’ wing, the patient being returned fighting all the way.

* * *

“Dreya, any chance you’d feel like stopping?”

“ _ No _ , Mel! We’ve only been fighting a few minutes; I need all the practice I can get!”

“What sort of logic is  _ that _ ?” Melane gasped as she blocked an attempt by her charge to bash her in the head with a staff. “You’re already better than I am!”

“Only because I’ve never missed a day of training.”

“But still, do you really think that – ?”

“Yes.”

Melane didn’t reply, focusing on countering the girl’s attacks.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded from outside the door to the practice room.

“Dreya! Melane!” Tamox stuck his head inside the door.

“What?”

“It – it’s the messenger. From the battlefield.”

“There’s news?” Dreya cried, pulling back from Melane’s strike and wheeling toward Tamox. “What is it?”

Tamox grinned. “We won.”

With a cry, Melane rushed to embrace her surrogate child. Dreya, for once, didn’t resist, letting her own joyful scream escape. 

“I – I can’t believe – we  _ won _ !” she gasped.

“I know.” Melane answered. “This… this is so…”

“Wonderful.” Tamox finished for her. “Isn’t it?”

“Y – yes. Wonderful.”

* * *

The tiny moment of joy wasn’t meant to last. With a returning army to consider, Dreya had to spend the rest of the morning in court. There were problems from everywhere, it seemed, and as such Tamox was left to amuse himself. Melane offered to let him browse her “anthology”, a small collection of books that she had managed to save from the library at Norigoth, but that didn’t appeal to him. Choosing solitude, he wandered the palace for a while, staring at wall hangings, paintings, and the occasional sculpture. Most artwork was salvaged from the old city, and a lot of it was in horrible condition. Many of the statues had lost arms or noses, and a lot of the wall hangings were ripped in corners. This did not detract from the beauty of the pieces, however. In fact, their worn state enhanced their modest splendor.

Tamox wandered for hours, captivated by the art, and before he knew it he had wandered into the royal chambers and the familiar Memorial Wall. A few meters from Dreya’s room was a tapestry he had seen earlier, and he walked over to examine it. The embroidery depicted a scene, unlike the other hangings with swirls of color or intricate patterns. A battle raged on a green field, gold figures against formless shadows. Despite the metaphor, Tamox could feel the emotions the artist must have poured into his or her work. Suddenly, something caught his eye. A nearly invisible line traced down the middle of the cloth, splitting it in two. Intrigued, he felt at it; and realized with a shock that it parted down the middle to reveal a door. Natural curiosity overcame good sense, and he decided to try the handle. It turned with a creak, opening onto a set of stairs. No torches hung on the wall, but there seemed to be a light down below. Despite Melane’s warnings not to snoop, Tamox couldn’t resist exploring just a little. Leaving the door open for an easy escape, he walked slowly down the steps.

As he descended, Tamox entered a circular room carved entirely in stone. The stairs curved up one wall, with the door at the top of their arc. A desk sat against the base of the stairs, a yellowed parchment covered in writing on its surface. Two bookcases stacked with papers flanked the old desk like an honor guard. All this Tamox took in, and then he saw what stood in the center of the room. 

A stone pedestal had been carved from the floor, with a bowl-like depression in its center. This depression was filled with water, and it was that water which provided the light Tamox had seen from above. The glow wasn’t bright enough to light the whole room, but it provided ample aquamarine radiance to see that there were words carved into the rim of the pedestal. Tamox frowned over the curving script and unfamiliar words, unable to read or decipher them. Eventually, though, he returned his gaze to the water. It was moving, constantly in motion like the waters of a lake, even though there was no force visible to cause the unceasing shifting. As Tamox peered into its depths, he thought he saw some shape, blurred and unrecognizable.

“This looks like something Mayara would appreciate.” he murmured. “After all, this place was her home.” Bending closer, he squinted at the image – and then suddenly something grabbed him and pulled him downwards.

He dug his fingers into the side of the basin and held on, his face scrunching shut as the force pulled him downwards ever faster. When he hit bottom with a shuddering stop, he risked opening his eyes. 

“What in the  _ flames _ ?” he whispered.

Tamox was floating in a grey room, facing a thick wall made of some sort of masonry.

And looking him right in the eye was Mayara Orifax.

“Tamox?” she whispered, mouth hanging open.

“Y – your Majesty.” he stammered in response.

Mayara laughed slightly. “No. My daughter holds that title now.” She sighed and looked him over. “Is Dreya alright? What are you doing here? You can’t still be in Kespa’s dungeons, can you?”

“No. I – I’m not really sure what happened. And yes, Dreya’s fine. She’s recovering nicely. The last time I saw her she was sparring with Melane.”

“Mel? Really? I wonder how she managed it.”

“What?”

“Oh, Melane would never spar with me. She said it was barbaric. Preferred her books.”

“Interesting.” Tamox mused. “I thought –  _ what _ ?” 

Something had grabbed the back of Tamox’s shirt, and he found himself being pulled upward.

“Mayara!” he cried.

The queen’s eyes widened. “Dreya… she’s found you.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell her!” Mayara pleaded. “She  _ can’t  _ know about me!”

“I…”

“If she asks what happened, tell her you didn’t see anything. If she doesn’t believe you, hopefully the law will stop her. And if not…”

The force was pulling him upwards, and Tamox couldn’t fight anymore. He focused on Mayara futilely, and she shouted up to him as she vanished in a cloud of mist.

“I’ll stop her!” she cried. “I’ll keep her from the truth!”

“I… I don’t understand!” Tamox cried as his head broke the surface of the water and he arrived back in the subterranean chamber. Something grabbed his shoulder and turned him around, and he found himself staring into the eyes of a furious Dreya. 

“ _ Ren kih freslh xie dreyn _ ?” she cried, her voice more forceful than Tamox had ever heard. “ _ Vrel hyv SERWN oln xie _ !” 

Tamox winced. He had never angered Dreya into spouting Ilvir, and he had no way of knowing what she was saying. 

“Um, Dreya? I can’t understand a word you’re saying.” he murmured meekly. 

She tossed her hair and glared at him. 

“Are you really that STUPID?” she translated, somehow without losing any of the original fury. “People get KILLED like that!” 

“Like what?” Tamox asked. He had never seen the room before, nor had he ever heard of anything like that mesmerizing pool.  _ That lets me speak to an imprisoned queen. But I won’t say anything about that. _

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dreya!” he insisted. 

She seemed to hear him this time, her eyes softening a little. 

“Tamox, this is the  _ Prolythe _ , the…the ‘seeroom’, I guess you could call it in Common. You’ve been down here for hours.”

“Hours? B – but I - !”

“Yes, Tamox. Hours.” 

“The ‘seeroom’?” Tamox said, trying to find out exactly what had happened to him.

“The-the actual word is so hard to translate. You’d be surprised at the difficulty learning Common poses-but, I’m getting distracted. A  _ Prolythe _ is a room used by those who wish to see beyond their walls. The pool in the center is their window.” 

“Do… do those carvings on the side mean anything?” Tamox was flailing for something, anything to say, and finally his hands had rested on the engravings. 

Dreya paused for a moment. “I’ve never looked, actually.” She bent to look at the pedestal, stretching her form-fitting blue-colored court dress and threatening to rip it. 

“I hate this thing.” she muttered. “Anyway, it says  _ Ni Perif Onen _ , which means To See Beyond. I suppose it’s a standard inscription for a  _ Prolythe _ .” 

“Why did you pull me away from it?” Tamox asked. 

“It may seem harmless, but a  _ Prolythe _ is no laughing matter. Sometimes people are so enchanted by what they see that they don’t leave it and die of starvation. Once, someone fell through the  _ Prolythe _ and into a dragon’s den. That wasn’t pretty.” she answered matter-of-factly. “Normally,  _ Prolythea _ are forbidden, but my mother kept one to focus her visions.” 

“Her visions?”

“My mother had the Foresight.” Dreya said. “She would use the  _ Prolythe  _ to try and see into the future. She once said she had trouble seeing clearly, a lot of times the visions were only metaphors or allegorical. So the  _ Prolythe  _ would sometimes help her find what would really happen.”

“I didn’t see any visions.” Tamox said, then cursed inwardly.  _ Didn’t mean to let that slip. _

“Really?” Dreya asked. “What  _ did  _ you see?”

Tamox panicked, and then remembered what he’d glimpsed originally.

“I saw… I saw something, but I couldn’t tell what it was. It was like a blur in the water. It almost looked like a person.” 

Dreya cocked an eyebrow. “What?” she asked. 

Tamox winced slightly before continuing. “It was a person. I was trying to see more clearly when you half-strangled me.” 

Dreya looked at him hard, then glanced back at the  _ Prolythe _ . The choice that lay before her was plain now- find out what Tamox had seen in the water or obey the law and leave this place. In a flash of intuition, Dreya made her decision. She left Tamox by the stairs and walked back to the  _ Prolythe _ . She placed her hands on its rim and peered deeply into its watery depths. Her whole body tightened, her hands gripping the edge like claws as if they were the only things keeping her from plunging into the  _ Prolythe _ head-first. Suddenly Dreya’s eyes closed, her vision roaming ever deeper until she saw-how was this possible?-a woman.

She was floating alone in utter black. As Dreya watched, she realized that this person was immaterial, swirling and fluid. Her body was pale and colorless, part shadow and part substance. Suddenly, her limpid eyes opened. They had no pupils whatsoever, but it was obvious that they worked. 

_ She sees me. _

The person sighed, a tear slipping out. 

* _ Why are you here? _ * she asked, or thought. * _ Has she beaten you too? _ * 

“What do you mean?” Dreya said softly. “Who are you?” 

* _ Child, why else are you in the Realm of the Dead if she has not killed you too? _ * 

And then the realization of what she was seeing hit Dreya hard. Her fists clenched, and she sank to her knees as tears slipped out and mouth tore asunder in a scream.

“ _ MOM _ !”

If there was one thing that could express all of the fear, the pain, the brokenness, the anger, and the loneliness, it was that single outpouring.

Tears overcame Dreya for a time, but finally sobbing held no more comfort. She spoke again to the spectral image before her. 

“Why am I here?” 

* _ Are you dead? _ * the other elf asked. 

“Mom, I’m in the  _ Prolythe _ .” 

That seemed to anger the queen. 

* _ You would defy the law? _ * she asked, a hint of frustration in her voice. 

“You defied it too!” 

* _ That was for a purpose-to focus my visions. The last time I checked, Dreya, you didn’t have the Foresight. _ * 

Dreya sighed. “Mom, why? Why did I end up here?” 

Mayara looked at her daughter with a soft but chastising look. 

* _ Did you look with some kind of intention? _ * 

“Yes. I wanted to see what Tamox had seen.”

* _ Perhaps this Tamox didn’t see anything. _ *

“That… that doesn’t make sense. He’s never lied to me.”

* _ Has he ever been mistaken? He might have been confused. _ *

“Maybe. So, I suppose I didn’t have any intention if that is true.” 

* _ Then that explains it. Oftentimes you are carried to that which you want most in this world. _ * 

“Where’s Father?” 

Now it was Mayara’s turn to sigh, and she let a few diamond tears fall to the shadows. * _ We do not commune often. We are not at rest here, as we have been killed. Any murder victim waits here alone in this first Realm until they have been avenged. _ * The woman frowned as she spoke, saddened by her uncertain future. * _ If you die without killing her, you will remain here, and Andreya, it is a terrible fate. _ * There was silence for a moment, then Dreya asked one final question.

“I can’t stay here, can I?” Her query hung in the air, tinged with despair by her unsteady voice. A sigh slipped from the ghost. 

* _ No, child. You must go. _ * 

“But…but I don’t want to LEAVE!!!” Dreya screamed, tears flying out like she was a small girl again. “I’m tired of fighting! No matter how much I work, I can’t erase this thing that I’ve become!! Why can’t this just END?” Her mother didn’t answer, flowing through the black and wrapping her daughter in a hug. Of course, being immaterial, she couldn’t actually embrace anyone, and she slipped through Dreya’s outstretched arms like sand. 

* _ You should go. _ * she said softly, and then she gave Dreya a tearstained, piercing stare. That stare loosened, embedding itself in Dreya’s mind as her vision receded, turning outward again…and then she was staring once more into the  _ Prolythe _ ’s turbulent waters.

“DREYA!!!” A hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her away. It was Melane. Her eyes were wide with fear. 

“Why are you here?” Dreya asked, confused and slightly dizzy. 

“Tamox came and found me. What on earth were you  _ doing _ ? You know the law!” Dreya’s lower lip trembled, her tear-filled eyes reflecting the pale light of the  _ Prolythe _ . She stood there for a moment, and then she grabbed Melane around the neck in a desperate hug in a gesture of sheer pain, sobbing her eyes out until she could barely breathe. 

“What happened?” Tamox asked. 

“I- I saw my…my…I saw  _ her _ !!” More sobbing as Melane’s eyes took on an understanding look. 

“Her? Who’s Her?” Tamox asked. 

“Mother.” Melane answered flatly. “She looked into a  _ Prolythe _ and found her mother.”

Tamox bit his lip and turned back towards the  _ Prolythe _ . He knew, somehow, that it had nearly killed Mayara to lie to her daughter.

* * *

Dreya spent the remainder of the day locked in her room. She’d tried many times to escape the image in her mind, the sight of her mother’s pale and hopeless face, but it was useless.

_ She was there! It wasn’t just in my mind!!! _

Now it was plain why  _ Prolythea _ were forbidden-it was too easy to fall under their spell. 

_ It was just an image. Nothing more. I wasn’t actually there…but why did it feel so real? WHY? _

A knock on the door startled her back to reality. 

“Dreya?” It was Melane. “Dreya, open the door. Anshi’s going to be here tomorrow. Do you want her to see you like this?” 

“I don’t care. Not anymore.” The pain radiated through the taut words.  _ This is madness. Why on earth does she bother? _

“Well, I’ll explain why you aren’t there to greet her.” Melane answered. 

“She’ll understand.”  _ Why can’t you just go away? _ No…this wasn’t right. She hadn’t felt this pain in years beyond count. What had ripped open the scars to let her bleed again, leaving her dejected and alone in a prison of grief? 

“Mel,” she said, “could we talk?”

The door opened, and Melane entered, her eyes tired and worried. 

“What is it?” 

“I want to know-why am I feeling Mom’s loss like it happened yesterday? What’s caused me to revert?”

Melane sighed. 

“I don’t know.” she said, crossing over to look at Dreya’s gown. 

“Oh, you’ve torn it!” she exclaimed, kneeling to examine a rip at the hemline. “Dreya, honestly. Must you be so active in full court dress?” 

“I was bending over to look at the  _ Prolythe _ inscription. That’s not being active. And besides, you didn’t answer my question.” 

Melane gave another melodramatic sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe you just wanted her to be real.”

* * *

Tamox sat motionless in a chair, his eyes open but unseeing. He couldn’t shake the thought of Mayara from his head, and at the same time he remembered Dreya’s hopeless eyes.  _ She’s torn apart by whatever Mayara said… I can’t believe she’d lie to her own daughter like that. _

“How is she?” 

It was Cassy, who’d flown from somewhere to perch on his shoulder.

“She’s fine.  _ I’m _ not.” Tamox replied tersely.

“What’s the matter?”

“I… I can’t stop seeing her face.”

“Whose face?”

Tamox closed his eyes.  _ Should I tell her? What if she says something to Dreya? And Melane – Mayara’s her best friend! How can she expect me to keep silent around her? _

“Dreya.” he muttered, eyes sliding shut. “She – she’s just so tormented. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.” 

“That – that may be true, but she’s so lost.”

“She’ll find her own way.”

“Maybe.” Tamox sighed. “Or maybe she’ll break.”

“Don’t be like that.”

The sudden sound of a door opening and closing startled the friends into silence. Melane stepped out of the room, her eyes downcast.

“She’s not doing well.”

“I thought as much.” Cassy sighed. “Her mind… I mean, well, she’s probably scared and alone.”

“And angry. Angry at Kespa.” Melane agreed. “But there’s something I don’t understand.”

“What?”

“Why would Dreya even bother looking into the  _ Prolythe _ in the first place? She knows the law, and though she has no qualms about slipping away from her duties I don’t think she would defy her mother’s decree.”

At the mention of Mayara Tamox bit his lip and tried not to scream.  _ She’s trapped there, enduring Fates-know-what to save her daughter. I - I can’t just let her go. I have to do  _ something.

Cassy flinched on his shoulder, and he glanced in her direction to find himself on the receiving end of an unsettling stare. He thought for a moment she must have guessed his secret, and then dismissed the notion.  _ No. She can’t. I… Mayara’s still safe. _

Safe. Such a strange word, and so relative. Because now that he thought about it, Mayara may have been many things but she was definitely not safe.

* * *

Dreya lay on her bed, knees pulled under her chin in a position she hadn’t frequented in decades. 

_ Mother… _

She cursed herself bitterly for listening to Tamox, for letting her curiosity take over.  _ If you would have just obeyed the law, you never would have seen her. You never would have known how much depends on you. _

_ I just want to forget. I just want it all to go away. _

_ How? How can you leave her? She’s spent ages in there unavenged - you  _ have _ to save her! _

_ No. I can’t. I’m not even two centuries past my halfage. What can I do? _

_ I can do plenty. I can fight. I can stop this. _

_ It’s the only thing I have to live for. _

* * *

“No…”

“What is it?” Tamox asked, glancing upwards at Cassy. 

“I have to get in there.” the Quirlwing said, pushing off Tamox’s shoulder and flying to the closed door into Dreya’s room.

“Wait, she might not want you in there!” Tamox protested. 

“No. She needs me.”

Cassy dropped to open the door, twisting the knob and pushing inwards.

“Dreya? It’s Cassy.”

* * *

The voice wrenched Dreya back into reality.

“Cassy? What are you…?”

“Helping.” the Quirlwing said. “You’re forgetting something, and it’s my job to help you remember.”

“Remember what?”

Cassy flew to Dreya’s side, settling on the bed. Leaning forward, she spoke into the queen’s ear.

“You say you have nothing to live for, Andreya. And you are wrong.”

Dreya’s eyes widened as she remembered -  _ Anshi _ . Her sister.

“If you can’t live for yourself,” Cassy continued, “then live for her.”

The elf-queen closed her eyes and let the tears come, realizing what a fool she’d been.

* * *

Melane knew something was wrong with Tamox. And she knew what it was.

_ The  _ Prolythe.

Before he’d gone down there, he’d been the normal, happy Tamox she’d come to grudgingly like.

Afterwards he’d been a mess.

_ I have got to talk to him. _ the librarian decided.  _ And  _ soon _. _

* * *

Dreya stood on the balcony, peering out into the dark for any signs of Anshi. The arrival of the Guard would be preceded with torches and crowds-everyone wanted to celebrate the victory. She rested her elbows on the rail and frowned into the night.

She couldn’t quite understand what had brought Cassy into her room earlier, or just how the Quirlwing had known her thoughts.

_ Does it matter? It’s over now. I am well once more. _

Pushing the question to the back of her mind, the queen chose to focus on other matters.

The darkness broke then, a tiny torch visible in the distance. 

_ Anshi? _

There was no doubt. Who else could it have been?

A smile growing on her lips, Dreya turned and ran back through the door into the hallway.

“They’re back!” she cried. “Anshi’s back!”

The responding burst of activity convinced her she had been heard. Descending the stairs so fast she nearly fell, Dreya skidded across the entrance hall and collided with the doorkeepers.

“Milady, shall we open the door?” one asked, his voice slightly muffled by Dreya’s shoulder.

“Oh! Yes, yes please.” the queen stammered, jumping back as best she could as the servants pushed the oak doors ajar. Smiling her thanks, she hurried into the street as it filled with people.

_ Sister, you’ve come home. And you brought hope. _

“There’s still a hole in your gown.” The voice of Melane startled Dreya into a slight jump. 

“I know.” she whispered back. 

“If you had changed clothes the way you should have, this wouldn’t be a problem.” 

“Mel, I had to think. Besides, I can cut a slit in the skirt to hide the hole.” 

“Slits went out of style over two centuries ago!” 

“Then I’ll bring them back in style; just leave me alone so I can properly welcome the Guard back!” 

“Look, they brought the Xarn!” Tamox said in an effort to change the subject. It was true. There was a small group of Xarn near the back of the group. Among them stood Kieral, the Xarn heir to the throne; her father Sirold; and Saela with her father Keplan. Tamox’s eyes locked on Saela, and he smiled slightly. 

“She’s here.” he said. 

“Who?” Cassy asked, having recently flown over to perch on Dreya’s shoulder. 

“Saela.” Tamox answered wistfully. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen her.”

Dreya smiled as Tamox spoke. The tone of his voice made it obvious-he had some feelings for Saela, even if they were only small ones. It was good for him to have this small romance. Troubled times made ordinary life even more precious. The only question-did Saela know?

* * *

Anshi made her way to the palace doors slowly, reveling in her victory. It had been so long since she could swing a sword freely, so long since the battle hadn’t been inside her head. Memories flooded her suddenly, fragments of the hell that until recently had been her life.  _ No. I will not let my past claim me. Not now. _ The images were suppressed and forgotten, tears left for later (or sooner). She plastered a smile that seemed only a little forced over her face. It would serve her for the few seconds that other elves would see her.

* * *

Treyn opened her eyes once more, trying again to restrain her urge to bolt home. Life hadn’t been the same since the death of her daughter, so long ago.  _ No. Only two years. It may seem like eternity, but it’s only two years. _ Aril her husband hadn’t left his post with the Guard, insisting that he would avenge their child’s demise. So far he hadn’t been successful, and Valeria - foolish, cruel girl - had demoted him to a simple foot soldier. He had remained faithful to his post through the injustice, though, and the two hadn’t seen each other in months. Treyn, who had hidden within her home following her child’s death, was certain he had been killed. 

_ I don’t even know why I bothered to come, _ the grieving mother thought bitterly, her frayed and patched dress a stark contrast to the simple beauty of those around her. But, the reason was there. Some feeling of hope had struck Treyn Hitaro that morning, and it was this feeling that moved her now. Pushing her way to the front of the crowd, she watched the returning army with a faint smile.

* * *

Anshi looked splendid in her battle raiment to Dreya. Her leather gauntlets and breastplate were stained with blood, but her sword was at her side and victory was in her eyes. Dreya’s admiration was tinged with jealousy - after all, Anshi had gotten to  _ fight. _ She got to be free as a bird in her green cloak and light but durable armor, and Dreya was stuck in court at home. The teen moved gracefully to Dreya, eyes glowing but face restrained. 

“My lady,” she said in a clear voice, “we are victorious.” Dreya reached out and put a hand on Anshi’s shoulder, allowing herself a small smile. 

“Well done, Anshi. Welcome home.”

* * *

Treyn reeled suddenly at the words of the figure before her, clutching at the shoulder of a nearby woman for support as she slumped to the ground. Dreya was dead! Anshi was dead! They couldn’t both be alive and here, as if nothing was wrong. They just  _ couldn’t _ . Tears came streaming out as concerned elves began to notice her distress. What on earth was going on?

* * *

“Help here!” Dreya and Anshi forgot formality with the cry from the nearby throng of bystanders. 

“I’ll keep it together here.” Anshi said. “Go help your people.” A pathway cleared quickly to the elf in need- a frail looking blonde woman in a tattered and patched dress. Her hair spilled over her face as she lay on the ground, sobbing hysterically. Dreya knelt at her side, eyes wide with concern. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly, pushing back the woman’s wild mane to see her face. It was dominated by a pair of terrified sapphire eyes, shot with fear, madness, shock, and…joy? 

“You’re dead…” she moaned in a whispery voice edged with hysteria, her sobs subdued. It hit Dreya at that moment.  _ She knew this woman. _

“Treyn?” the elven-ruler cried. “Treyn Hitaro!” 

Anshi’s head snapped up, fully attentive to the woman on the ground. At that moment, Treyn stopped crying and locked eyes with her daughter. 

“Anshi?” she croaked pitifully. 

“Mom?” Anshi returned slowly, her emotional control gone. “Is that you?” Without waiting for an answer, she ran to Treyn, crashed into the pavement on her knees, and wrapped her arm around the frail body of her mother. Treyn returned the hug, and mother and daughter held each other as their tears mingled. Neither spoke, for any words would have marred the moment beyond repair.

Anshi finally released her mother, and they looked at each other for a long time. 

“Your father will be so happy…” Treyn murmured faintly. “He’s still in the Guard, you know.” 

Anshi smiled. “Really?” she said. “That’s nice.”

Tamox watched the exchange from some distance off. He was glad that Anshi had her mother back -  _ no, don’t think of mothers. It only makes the pain worse. _

“Tamox?” 

He turned his head to see Saela standing behind him. She was wearing a simple dress with a white top edged in gold thread and a deep blue skirt bordered by gold brocade. 

“Hello.” he said shyly, studying his friend carefully. Had she also been changed by time? Her face wasn’t altered much; except for something different about her eyes. At first Tamox couldn’t put his finger on what was different, but then it hit him.

Saela had lost her innocence. 

“Hello, Saela.” he said again, trying to break the awkward silence. “How have things been?” She didn’t answer this question verbally, as a call from her father caused her to turn from Tamox and walk back to the tight little knot of Xarn dignitaries. Only her eyes spoke then, burning her answer into his head. 

_ Things have been very bad, Tamox. Very bad indeed. _


	11. At The Brink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm beginning to think that I basically wrote this for myself and nobody else. It's sort of a strike against the work, honestly.

“What are they even doing here?”

“I… I’m not sure. From what I can tell, Anshi brought them here.”

“Why, Dreya? Was this on your orders?”

“No, Mel. Don’t worry about it.”

“How can I not worry about it? We scarcely have space for our own people, and now we’re expected to shelter the Xarn? I… I can’t handle this, Dreya. You sort things out.”

“Melane, I need you.”

The words stopped the librarian in her path.

“Where’s Anshi, Dreya?” she asked.

“I think she and Treyn are reconnecting - Fates know they deserve it. That’s why I need you. We have to present a united front.”

Melane raised an eyebrow.

“A untited front?” she asked. “Against what?”

Dreya sighed. Suddenly her reckless vow from before her imprisonment had come to mind, and she knew why Sirold had chosen to shelter his people in her city.

“Mel,” she began, “please don’t be angry with me.”

“Why would I be angry with you?”

“I… when I first met Sirold, before I was… captured… I told him that whatever course of action he took against the Xarn, I would back him in it.  _ We _ would back him in it. So… I think he’s come to collect on the debt.”

Melane’s eyes flared.

“Dreya, you can’t be serious.”

“I was trying to make the best of a bad situation!”

“ _ Dreya _ , do you not realize what you’ve done?”

“I forged an alliance.”

“You pulled us deeper into this war. I was  _ trying _ to get to a sort of peace, because there is no way we can win long-term against Kespa. But now… now we have to fight her. Otherwise we’ll be breaking our word.”

“Peace?” Dreya cried. “Melane, don’t you rememember? Remember what she  _ did  _ to our people?”

She felt her heart pounding behind her ribs, and she knew she was losing control. In another moment, she would have held back; now she didn’t care and lashed out against her advisor with all the fury she could muster.

“She killed my mother, Melane! Fates, I  _ saw  _ her do it! She’s annihilating the Xarn, she tried to have me murdered in the forest, and she nearly tortured my sister to death! And you’re telling me you want  _ peace  _ with this monster?”

There were murmurs of assent from the surrounding crowd. Melane, sensing that their disagreement was all too public, glared at Dreya.

“Be quiet.” she snapped. “The whole city can hear you.”

“You think I care?” the queen cried. “Your solution would be the end of our people!”

“ _ What choice do we have? _ ” Melane screamed. Her shoulders heaved as she fought to restrain the sobs beneath her calm surface. “You think I don’t remember, Andreya? You think that a day goes past when I don’t miss your mother more fiercely than you can comprehend? She was my only friend, the one person who actually cared what happened to the weird girl in the library! And when she met Darys, it… it was like everything she’d been missing was suddenly there. I loved them like my own family and now I can never see them again! So don’t you look at me and say I don’t understand, your Majesty. If I could I’d kill that witch myself.”

Dreya stepped back, shocked at Melane’s outburst.

“Mel…” she began, reaching a hand out. “I… I’m sorry…”

But Melane just glowered at her charge.

“It’s not all about you.” she growled. “And I don’t need your pity.”

Without another word, she turned around and stalked back inside the palace.

Behind her, using all his stealth, Tamox followed silently.

* * *

Still clad in her torn gown, Dreya sprawled across her throne and faced the few counselors she had at her disposal.

“Let me be frank.” she said. “I made a promise two years ago. It may have been rash, but it was binding nonetheless. Are you all willing to accept that?”

Four heads nodded, four mouths murmured in the affirmative.

“Good.” Dreya said. “As you are all aware, several Xarn dignitaries and their families have arrived with our returning army. We are going to provide them shelter, do you understand?”

“ _ All _ of them?” Pela, a brown-haired woman, sputtered. “Highness, I - ”

“My name is not ‘highness’.”

“ _ Dreya _ , we don’t have the space.” Pela finished. She was a serious elf in charge of the various community housing projects, and lately she’d been stressed. “There are almost no empty houses anywhere in Tralnrt, and those that remain should go to our people.”

“I agree.” said Jerit, the senior healer. “Those of us who are old enough to live alone should be given the chance.”

“Very well.” Dreya acquiesced. “What do you suggest we do?”

Aora, a petite woman with large violet eyes, was the only one to answer.

“House them here.” she suggested. “You rarely use the throne room, Dreya, and there’s surely space enough. Also don’t forget the vacant rooms in the other wings. It would be cramped, but surely it’s a solution.”

“Maybe.” 

It was Idrial, the head chef. Lately, she’d taken on the responsibility of rationing what little grain and vegetables could be gathered. 

“We barely have enough to feed everyone, your - I mean, Dreya. It’s not going to be a popular choice if we have to give our already-slim resources to the Xarn.”

Eyes widened as the others realized the wisdom of what Idrial had said. 

“Housing may be one thing, but if there’s no food it’s quite likely that we’ll have a revolt on our hands.” Jerit said.

“I don’t think - !”

“How much time have we got if we take in the Xarn?”

Aora’s voice, though soft, was somehow forceful and cut through Dreya’s protestations. 

Idrial thought for a moment. “No more than two weeks.”

“Have you got an idea?” Pela asked.

“Defeat Kespa before then.”

The reactions were mixed.

“Impossible.”

“We can’t do it.”

“Who says we’re even going to fight again?”

“I do.” Dreya announced. “And regardless of the consequences, I made a promise. Let’s get the Xarn settled, and then we can focus on planning our next move.”

* * *

The knock on the door startled Melane, and she quickly fought to hide her tears.  _ Dreya, you idiot. _ she thought, cursing the queen silently.  _ I miss her more than you can know _ .

Rising from her bed, the librarian wiped away the signs of her anguish as best she could and opened her door.

“Tamox?”

The awkward youth shrugged his shoulders in acknowledgement.

“Melane,” he said, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

She opened the door further. 

“Please come in.” she said. “Dreya didn’t want the royal suite, she gave it to me. Take a seat anywhere.”

Tamox nodded and settled into a dark armchair.

“It’s very spacious.” he commented.

“You think so?” Melane asked, smiling faintly. “I could use more room, honestly - though it would all go to my books.” She gestured to a closed door. “That’s where I keep them. I only use about half of the space. But in all seriousness, Tamox, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Tamox squirmed. In the courtyard it had seemed like a great idea to tell Melane that Mayara was really quite alive. It had even seemed feasible outside her door. But now… now he just didn’t know. Taking a deep breath, he spoke.

“It’s really a question, I suppose.” he said. “If… if someone asks you to keep a secret, is it the right thing to do?”

“Yes.” Melane answered. “Wait. Did Dreya tell you a secret?”

“No. I… there was something someone told me, and she told me not to tell anyone else because it could be very dangerous. But… but it might make things better. At least sort of. I don’t know what to do.”

Melane sat in the nearest chair and sighed. 

“I won’t ask you to tell me the secret, Tamox. What I will ask you is this: what good is keeping it to yourself doing? Is it absolutely imperative no one ever finds out about it? Will it be safe to talk about in the future? Or is there only one person who can never know?”

Tamox thought for a moment, and realized he had no idea.  _ I need someone to talk to who won’t be absolutely insisting we need to rescue Mayara as soon as I tell them. And Melane isn’t that person. _ He rose from his chair.

“Thank you,” he said, “but I think I’ll keep it to myself a while longer.”

“I understand.” Melane answered. “Is there anything else?”

Tamox began to say ‘no’, but then he suddenly  _ knew. _ Melane was tired of war because she had lost everything to it. What if he could give her the chance to regain at least some of her past? Would that lend her the resolve to fight?

Maybe. And maybe not.

But right now, that slim chance was worth risking exposure.

It was time for the truth to come out.

* * *

As soon as she could, Dreya slipped away from the chaos outside. Pela and a few of the guards were handling the Xarn, so escape was permissible.  _ It won’t be long. _ she decided.  _ I just need to think. _ With a few steps, she had opened one of the enormous oak doors and entered Lhiar proper. She closed the door behind her and turned to check the area for guards. No one could be seen or heard.  _ Good. _

Moving soundlessly, she slowly turned down a small corridor and made her way back to the residential section. Her room was on the second floor, almost directly above her head. In normal situations, she would have just taken the third hallway off the main entrance and used the back stairs to avoid courtiers, but now it was vital for her to be invisible. This routine was familiar, so etched into memory that Dreya could have done it in her sleep-she’d been escaping Lhiar since the days when simply mentioning the word “court” was enough to make her break out in hives.  _ Mel will look for me on the secondary stair - if she’s even speaking to me - and there will be guards in the main hallway when she doesn’t find me. _ This would be challenging, but Dreya was far from defeat. In a palace like Lhiar, there was always an alternative route.

_ I hope this still works. _ she thought, ducking suddenly into a closet to avoid a knot of courtiers. They were female, of course, chattering about how scandalous it was to allow the Xarn to stay…and oh my, Valeria is absolutely  _ taken _ with the captain of the guard!...and would Elery kindly return that bottle of perfume she borrowed? 

_ It’s ridiculous, _ Dreya thought,  _ how much can be said about nothing at all. _ She waited until they had passed out of earshot, and then she slipped out again and darted to an alcove just across the hall. A bust of Lumine dominated most of the space, but just behind the pedestal Dreya’s route upstairs was hidden. Checking once more to ensure no one was watching, Dreya moved the tapestry covering the wall and opened the doors sequestered behind. She dropped down into the empty space they shielded, clutching the edge with her fingertips.

There had once, apparently, been a pulley-driven lift system running the height of the palace. Why it had been dismantled, no one knew, but Dreya had discovered it when she was a small child and had since used it as her direct route upstairs. With no rope, she used the rough walls as handholds and climbed up to her destination.

The climb itself was lengthy, but not overly hard. Not too long had passed since Dreya’s last escape. Occasionally, a vent would let in a little light, illuminating the otherwise pitch-black shaft. After about ten seconds, Dreya had reached the second-floor access point. Pushing herself up, she leaned on one elbow and punched the well-oiled doors open with her free hand. Her room was just across the hall. After checking to make sure she was alone, she climbed out, shut the doors, and darted inside. The door clicked shut behind her.  _ Finally, a chance to breathe. _

Dreya switched out her court gown for a loose-fitting white shirt and black pants. She pulled on her traveling boots and headed for the window. The route was simple: down the outside wall and then straight out of Tralnrt. She knew the path well, and even in the dim light each handhold outside her window was familiar. As such, she had no trouble escaping; gliding through the night like some flimsy but regal spectre. She headed for the outskirts of the city, following the river and finally turning from the main path into a small grotto just behind the waterfall that fed Tralnrt’s life-giving streams. Moonlight flooded the cave, entering through a far-off opening high above. Dreya walked in, and then stopped dead. She couldn’t believe it.

A person was already there, moving silently in the blue light. She was a Xarn-her long hair gleamed white as she silently and gracefully danced. Her identity became plain soon-it was Kieral, Sirold’s daughter, alone and deftly performing for an audience of zero.

Dreya watched, spellbound, as Kieral spun in the circle of moonlight. Her movements were poignant and provoking; leaps and arabesques accompanied by swirling arms and her peaceful face. The pale glow from the moon far above tinged every landing and soundless pirouette with an air of sadness. She landed finally on one foot, her arms spread outward in a sort of bow. She raised her head and opened her eyes…which fell squarely on Dreya.

“Oh!” Kieral’s rhythm was broken and she stumbled backward, managing to catch herself as she wobbled uneasily. “I’m sorry…I didn’t know…that you’d be here…I’m sorry!” she murmured. Dreya walked into the circle of light and smiled softly. 

“It’s fine.” she said. “Honestly, I was only going to think for a while.” Kieral nodded, still trembling slightly. 

“I overheard about what you said…I mean, about fighting Kespa… and I just needed to get away. I went exploring and found this place. It just seemed so…so perfect. I had to stay here.”

“It was beautiful.” Dreya told her. “The dance, I mean. It was so heartfelt, like you poured yourself into it.” 

“My mother loved to dance.” Kieral said. “Whenever I miss her, I dance her a Remembrance.” 

“Is she dead?” When Dreya had left Kieral last, her oddly cold mother, Elindra, was alive and well.

“No, she left.” This was a sobering statement, and Kieral shifted into a gymnast’s scale with a sigh. “She gave my father the wax rose. She dissolved the lifebond.” Kieral dipped her head, then kicked up and spun to face the opposite direction, landing in another scale. “She left.”

Dreya nodded understandingly. Divorce was unheard of in elven society, but to Xarn it was not uncommon. 

“It seems so terrible.” she said. “The ultimate betrayal.” 

“Yes.” Kieral answered sadly. “The ultimate betrayal.”

There was no sound for a moment, just the two girls standing together in the puddle of moonlight in a silent commune. Dreya watched Kieral as she slowly began to come up from her scale. When she was standing once again, Dreya moved to a passage on the far side of the cave and beckoned to her. 

“Come on.” she said. “There’s something I want to show you.”

She led Kieral down the passage, her boots clattering on the stone floor. Soon, they came to a freestanding spiral staircase that ascended upward at least five stories.

“This way.” she whispered, her voice echoing on and up. “Don’t look down.” The two girls walked carefully, Dreya leading a rather reluctant Kieral onward. She had never shared this secret with anyone before, except Anshi.

The stairs were sturdy, though spray from the waterfall on the other side of the far wall had coated them in a fine layer of moisture. Dreya looked back to find that Kieral had found her balance quickly, darting along the spiral with just as much agility as the elf who led her. The waterfall roared, thundering down into the icy churning lake that provided all of Tralnrt with life. Dreya reached the top first, turning into the chamber just off the staircase. Kieral almost floated in behind her, continuing her nearly eternal state of repose. 

“What is this place?” she asked Dreya. 

Dreya didn’t answer.

A line of carved stone graves stood along the far wall, flanked by torches on either side. Dreya’s eyes flicked over the inscriptions above them, reading names she had memorized over the years. Farthest to the left, so old it was barely legible, was the first name. ISILRÉ ORIFAX. Nineteen others followed- ALARIC ORIFAX. ARIEL ORIFAX. DAMIEN ORIFAX. CIRYA ORIFAX. PARIL ORIFAX. KYVAEDA ORIFAX. SEVRIN ORIFAX. SATIMI ORIFAX. ELVRYN ORIFAX. The list went on, until finally culminating with Dreya’s grandmother Lumine. She was buried beside her husband. 

“This is the Ruler’s Hall.” Dreya explained. “All the members of the Orifax line are buried here.”

“All of them?” Kieral asked, awestruck. 

“Almost all of them. They all died defending their people, giving the ultimate sacrifice for freedom…and that will be my fate as well.” 

“Even your parents died?” 

Dreya nodded to the other girl. “They aren’t buried here, as no one could find their bodies.” 

“How did they die?” 

The elf looked away suddenly, choking back a single acrid tear. 

“Kespa killed them.” 

“That’s terrible.”

“I come here to think.” Dreya said, changing the subject. “It’s almost as if I want them to speak to me, when I need help on what to do next.” 

“Does it help?” Kieral asked. 

“Sometimes.” Dreya answered with a sigh. “Other times it feels like they don’t care.” She bowed her head and said no more, her mind occupied with thoughts of Melane.  _ I hope she’s not too upset. I’m… I’m sorry, Mel. I never meant to hurt you. _

“Of course they do!” Kieral cried. “Dreya, they’re your family! They love you!” She smiled, trying to hearten the young queen. “I bet they’re just as stumped as you.” 

Dreya smiled involuntarily. 

“That wouldn’t surprise me. After all, this particular problem has killed three of us - the Orifaxes, I mean. It’s not like a plague or a famine.”

“My father says that Kespa’s the worst thing to happen to us.” Kieral said. “She’s killed nearly everyone, there’s no way we’re going to recover from this.”

Dreya shook her head. “Don’t listen to him, he’s probably just frustrated. We all say things we don’t mean.”

“So what do we do to stop it?”

“We fight her. We fight Kespa.”

“I… I think I’m going to do that with you.”

The elf started, and turned to examine her companion. “Kieral, your father probably wouldn’t let you.”

“You don’t know my father.”

“You’re serious? You want to fight?”

“It’s all I can do, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter if I want to or not. If I don’t then I’m going to die.”

The words shook Dreya to the bone.  _ She can’t be more than thirteen years old. Even if she was one of us, she’d never be expected to do battle. But if she wants to… _

“I’ll see what I can do, Kieral. But in the meantime, we need to get back to Lhiar.”

* * *

The  _ Prolythe _ room was exactly as Tamox had left it earlier. Even the eerie light emanating from the liquid in the carved pedestal seemed identical.

“Are you going to tell me why I’m here?” Melane asked, arms crossed. “It’s still against the law to come here, regardless of the fact that you’ve done it before.”

Tamox sighed as he faced the  _ Prolythe _ , dreading what was about to happen.

“I… I wasn’t exactly honest with you, Melane, when I said I hadn’t seen anything in the  _ Prolythe _ earlier today.” he said.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” the librarian admitted. “Is there some reason why you didn’t mention it before?”

“Well, I’d promised someone to keep it secret.” he said. 

“What? Tamox, what are you hiding?” Melane asked.

Placing his hands on the edge of the basin, Tamox focused on Mayara. 

“It’s easier to show you.” he said. “Come here.”

Melane walked over and copied Tamox’s stance.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” she asked. 

“Just watch.” he said, staring deep into the pool.  _ Mayara. Mayara. I want to see Mayara. _

Suddenly there was a jerk and both observers were pulled into the glowing liquid. Tamox grabbed on to the stone of the pedestal and hoped Melane would do likewise.

“I - I’m falling!” she cried.

“Hold on!” Tamox shouted back over the rush of air and light. “Don’t let go of the edge!” He felt her tense her hands on the basin, and then it was all over. They were hovering in the familiar grey cell.

And before them hung Mayara.

The gasp from Melane alerted Tamox to her recognition of the imprisoned queen.

“Why did you bring me here?” she hissed in a whisper. “I don’t want to see the dead.”

“Tamox?”

Mayara had lifted her head, and the flash of shock in her eyes showed she saw both of them.

“Tamox,” she continued, “what are you doing here? And why is - ?”

Melane’s voice cut into the sentence.

“ _ Mayara? _ ”

The queen nodded. 

“It’s been a long time, Mel. I apologize for the shackles, but Kespa doesn’t exactly provide adequate living conditions.”

The cry of pain from the librarian brought tears to Tamox’s normally dry eyes. Melane fell to her knees and sobbed openly, realizing for the first time that her only friend  _ was not dead _ .

“I… I never imagined, not in all this time… why didn’t you  _ say  _ something or leave a hint? Ara, I thought you foresaw your death, didn’t you see this coming?”

Mayara shook her head, her eyes brightening at the nickname.

“I only saw Kespa with the Medallion. And no matter if I had or not, there is nothing I can do to change the future. Whatever action I take won’t change the outcome.”

“You… you look well.” 

“It’s mostly an illusion. Kespa won’t miss an opportunity to cause me pain.”

The reality of the situation set in, and Melane straightened and stood up.

“I can’t stay long,” she said, “and I don’t know what to think now. But I can promise you one thing, Ara. I will save you. That I swear.”

Mayara smiled faintly, tears welling in her eyes.

“You have my love, sister.” she said, and then the cell faded to pale blue and Tamox and Melane stood once again in the  _ Prolythe _ room.

Melane let out a choked sob and sank to the floor as Tamox caught her.

“I… I never thought, not once, that she could be alive.” the woman moaned. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Make up with Dreya.” Tamox suggested. “Fight Kespa and beat her. Once she’s dead, we’re all free. Including Mayara.”

_ But all that can wait. _ he realized.  _ Right now, she just needs to cry. _

So he held her there, letting her try to seal up the wound he had just reopened.

* * *

Anshi inhaled sharply, letting the scent of spearmint fill her mind. The cup in her hand was hot to the touch, but she ignored it, staring instead into the steaming water.

“Is there anything else you want?” Treyn asked, coming from her small kitchen to sit beside her daughter at the table.

“No.” Anshi said, closing her eyes. “I… I just need a moment.”

Treyn was silent, unsure of how to react. 

“I thought you were dead.” she said finally, abruptly wishing she hadn’t said anything.

“A lot of people thought I was dead.” her daughter replied.  _ Myself included. _

“Anshi… what  _ happened _ ? You left and then Dreya was gone and Valeria was queen and your father… Fates, I don’t know where he is now. I don’t want to be alone like this.”

The girl stiffened, glancing from her tea to her mother. The strain the past years had taken on her was evident.  _ She’s never been very strong… it’s almost as if her mind unhinged. _

“Mom,” she began, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But Anshi…”

“Maybe later.” she said, rising from the table and setting her mug down. Inside her head were flashes of memory, thoughts of pain and desperation and of wishing for death.

_ I just want to forget it all. _

* * *

Kieral faced a very stern lecture from Sirold when she got back, but he understood her need for solitude only too well. 

“Just let someone know where you’re going.” he admonished, hiding a smile. “I was about to sound the alarm.” 

Kieral rolled her eyes. “Where was I supposed to go?”

She had a point. The housing situation was definitely not ideal, and the frustrating lack of food made a bad situation worse. The one positive that had emerged was the expertise of the Xarn in finding and making use of every last resource provided them. Already the weavers’ guild was adopting their style of embroidery for use in their more expensive cloth; their incredibly strong bows were gaining a following among the ranks of Guard archers. Even Pela, once so skeptical, had to admit that the presence of the refugees had actually improved the quality of life for the majority of Tralnrt’s inhabitants.

To Dreya’s surprise, it was Tamox who proved to be the most valuable, though. The day after the Xarn arrived, he and Saela had organized a joint force of Elves and Xarn to scout for food aboveground. 

“We’ll be careful.” he promised Dreya when he proposed the idea. “There are ten of us in total - four Xarn hunters, four of your best scouts, Saela, and me.”

“And why do the two of you want to go along?” Dreya had inquired amusedly.

“Something to do.” he shrugged. “Until the battle.”

It was that fact that scared Dreya the most. She knew there was to be a battle, and she wondered at her fear of the situation - after all, she’d faced and killed hundreds of Myrl in her lifetime, as well as Krysty Anaril.

_ But the Myrl weren’t in massive numbers, or directly commanded by Kespa. And Krysty wasn’t fighting me. _

_ It doesn’t matter. I still have to lead my people into war. _

_ Whatever the outcome. _

She was going over a list of Guard fighters when the knock on her door came.

“Come in.” she said.

The door creaked open. “Forgive me if I’m intruding.” said Melane.

“No, Mel, not at all.” Dreya said. “In fact, I was just going to find you. I have something to say to you.”

“And I have something to say as well.” said her advisor.

They both spoke at once. “I’m sorry.”

After a moment of silence, Dreya laughed.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said.” she admitted. “I was wrong.”

“And I reacted too quickly.” Melane continued. “I should have trusted you.”

“I don’t care anymore, Mel.” Dreya said with a smile. “I’m just glad you’re on my side.”

* * *

Kespa sat once more in her fortress library, the table free of books again. Dreya-or, more correctly,  _ An _ dreya, had let her guard down one last time. It was a simple thing to find out everything about her. Oh, the queen herself had been bound with magic from her birth and therefore was too dangerous to tackle-but it was not so with Anshi. Anshi had been almost an effortless catch. Already stressed from her time in prison and her memories of the mental probing, her mind was only too easy to crack.

* * *

“I need advice.” Dreya announced at breakfast the next morning. “Sirold and I are planning a council of war for tomorrow. I need to know what you want addressed.”

“What’s going to happen if we lose?” Tamox asked. He reached for a piece of fried flatbread and took a bite.

“Don’t think about that.” Cassy advised, popping an almond into her mouth. “It’s not going to help anything.”

“But he’s right.” Dreya admitted. “What if we do fail?”

“We continue on.” Mayara said. “What does it matter if we don’t succeed? We are dead if Kespa wins.”

“So I will tell the council tomorrow that we only have one choice: war.” Dreya said. “Thank you, Melane.”

“ _ Stop it!” _

The cry caused all heads in the room to turn to Cassy, who sat rigid on the edge of the table. Her eyes were wide.

“Cassy?” Tamox asked. “Are - are you alright?”

“I… I can feel her.” the Quirlwing murmured. “She’s probing again, like she did earlier. Only it’s not me.”

“What are you talking about?” Melane asked. 

“I can sense thoughts, Melane. And auras and minds. Now I feel Kespa’s mind close by, probing at someone else.”

“Who?” Dreya asked, too concerned about Kespa to discuss the fact that Cassy’s mental powers had depths she hadn’t imagined. 

The answer sent them all scrambling for the door.

“It’s Anshi. Kespa’s tormenting her again.”

* * *

Treyn was startled by the knock on the door, but she quickly ran down the stairs to answer it. Twisting the knob, she began to speak even before the door was fully opened.

“I’m sorry, my daughter isn’t well. Please come back-oh.” It was Dreya, with Cassy on her shoulder. Treyn stepped back to let them in. “Dreya, Anshi isn’t any better. She needs rest.” 

Dreya shook her head firmly. 

“What Anshi needs is freedom.” 

She turned away and mounted the stairs, leaving a breathless Treyn behind her.

Dreya took the stairs two at a time, Cassy easily balanced on her shoulder. Anshi’s room was just down the hall on the right. She stopped at the door, waiting to see if her friend would open it. When a few seconds had passed in silence, Dreya twisted the knob open and walked in. Anshi was asleep, lying on her bed. 

“Anshi?” Dreya called. “Anshi! Wake up! It’s me!” The pale figure didn’t even twitch at the words. 

“Anshi!” Dreya cried, rushing to her sister’s side. “Please! Wake up!” Cassy leapt off Dreya’s shoulder to perch on the headboard. “Is there anything you can do?” Dreya asked fearfully. 

“I don’t know.” Cassy said, “I’ll try, though. For Anshi.”

Cassy closed her eyes. She tried not to think about the consequences and focused hard on her job. She knew there were three auras in the room. Hers was a soft pink in color, with traces of teal here and there. Dreya’s was gold, like all Elves, wound about with threads of silver. Wait. Wasn’t silver the color for magic?  _ Dreya doesn’t have any magic… _ Cassy thought, but she dismissed the notion. Dreya’s aura could wait. Anshi took precedence. The Quirlwing focused on the frail girl’s aura and frowned inwardly.

On the surface, the aura was normal, and yet Cassy couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that took hold on her. 

_ If I just focus a little more… _ She concentrated on Anshi, filling her mind with thoughts of the girl.  _ I barely know her, but if she dies then Dreya is lost… _ Suddenly, the illusion dissolved. Cassy found herself staring at Anshi’s aura…but was it really Anshi? The bright gold had almost vanished, smothered and twisted by deep violet threads that covered the poor girl’s spirit. It was almost as if the intruder had become part of the girl, absorbing all individuality and transforming her into a wasted and lifeless shell.  _ Kespa. _

She was here, in these deep vines like whipcords that cut into Anshi’s pale aura. She was here, and here was the place to begin healing the wounds. 

_ If I can just unravel the vines, maybe she’ll be free. Maybe Kespa won’t get her _ . Cassy laughed mentally as the thought formed.  _ I’m just a child. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be pulled into Anshi’s mind. _ She found one end of a thread and seared it with a mental blast. Fire spread up the web, but the vines countered with a dark smoke. Anshi’s aura writhed in pain beneath the purple. Cassy grimaced and increased the strength of her blast. The vines formed up around her, threatening to pull her down. 

_ Here’s to violets and fire,  _ she thought grimly,  _ and may the sun take us all. _


	12. Plunge

Anshi’s eyes snapped open. Her lips parted and oxygen flooded in with a faint gasp. 

“ _ Dreya? _ ” she whispered, a single tear dripping down her cheek. “ _ Are you there? _ ” Dreya took her sister’s hand and nodded, bending over Anshi’s face. 

“You scared me.” she said, trying to make light of the situation. “Don’t ever do that again, Anshi. Please.” Anshi gripped Dreya’s hand tightly. 

“It wasn’t my choice.” she said. “Dreya, if I could have stopped it, I would have.” Her eyes were wild with panic, as if she had committed some atrocity and was now begging for mercy. “YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME!” Dreya pulled Anshi to a sitting position and wrapped her in a hug. 

“It’s alright.” she whispered as her friend sobbed. “I believe you.”

Cassy opened her eyes and sighed with relief. Her fur was drenched with sweat and her brown eyes watered as she saw Anshi. 

“Dreya,” she said, “I need to talk with you. Now.”

Dreya nodded and gently laid Anshi back to rest. 

“What is it?” she asked. Cassy jerked her head at the door. 

“Outside.” she said. “It’s… a delicate matter.” Dreya rose from the bed and walked out. Cassy fluttered to her shoulder and Dreya shut the door. 

“What is it?” she asked again. Cassy gestured to a chair that must have been left by Treyn, and Dreya sat obligingly.

“Well?” she said.

Cassy sighed and preened her feathers. 

“I think Kespa knows about you.” she said. “She tried to talk with me, she used your name.” 

“ _ What _ ?” Dreya cried. “This is- how did- HOW DOES SHE KNOW??” 

“I’m not sure.” Cassy answered hesitantly. “Her aura was bound up with Anshi’s, and when I tried to dissipate her holds, she just  _ separated _ and looked at me. She said ‘I was expecting Andreya. Are you that person I’ve been hunting?’ I didn’t say anything, and she laughed.” Cassy winced as she spoke. “It was like pins and needles all over, like I was on the rack and she was twisting me up and down. I started to cry- I’m sorry, I couldn’t bear it- and then she stopped. ‘You’re not her.’ she said. ‘Andreya would not cry.’ And I just started bawling right there in front of her, and the pain came back, and she sort of  _ smiled _ and said ‘Tell my worthy opponent that when the time comes, I’ll be ready to fight.’”

Dreya’s face fell. “This is darker than I’d expected.” she said, and her head sank into her hands. She sat silently for a few seconds, and Cassy decided to be polite and leave her mind alone.

“I’ve reached a decision,” Dreya said finally, sitting up, “but Anshi should be included before we discuss it further. After all, she’s the one who was possessed.” Cassy giggled in spite of herself and watched as Dreya pushed the door open. 

“Anshi?” she called. “There’s something we need to talk about.” 

“Go right ahead.” Anshi replied. “I’ve had plenty of silence.” Dreya smiled faintly. 

“Well, Cassy said that Kespa’s aura was smothering yours…” Dreya recounted everything that had happened, Cassy nodding and adding details as needed. 

“She was really there!” the Quirlwing finished. 

“And,” Dreya added grimly, “she wants me to invoke the  _ ktaria _ .” 

“What?” Anshi cried. “Dreya, you’ll be killed. You can’t!” 

“I must.” Dreya answered. “I must.”

“Wait!” Cassy said. “What in the five planes is the  _ ktaria _ ?” 

“It’s a ritual.” Anshi informed her. “In a war, if the sides are perfectly matched, either side can declare the  _ Ktaria _ , or ritual combat. The leaders will do battle on a neutral site, and whoever is victorious wins the war.” 

“Dreya, you can’t!” Cassy cried. 

“I can, and I will.” Dreya answered. 

“Dreya,” Anshi said, “she won’t be fair. I  _ know _ .” She stiffened. “I- I was  _ there. _ I was  _ inside  _ of her when she was committing all those atrocities. I was there…” Anshi’s eyes were wild with fear and anguish, her voice little more than a whisper. “ _ I was there when she killed your parents. _ ”

Dreya stared, aghast. “You-you saw them die? You were there too?”

“Too?”

“I dreamed their deaths.”

“Then you should know that trusting Kespa with a  _ ktaria _ is foolish! She killed while Mayara was in flight-like an assassin. You know that if you accept, you’re doomed.  _ She’ll stop at nothing to win _ .” Dreya’s eyes narrowed. 

“You’re right.” she said ruefully. “She’ll murder me first chance she gets.” 

“It’s for the best.” Anshi said, putting a hand on Dreya’s shoulder. “I know she wronged you terribly, but if you’re going to kill her do it on the battlefield. That’s where such acts belong.” Dreya nodded, sighing. 

“Well,” she said, “I should get back to Mel and Sirold. We have a council to plan.”

* * *

Dreya sat uneasily on her throne at what could be called the head of the circle of seats. Sirold, Keplan, and Kieral were on her right, with about five other Xarn flanking them. Saela and Tamox sat to the Xarn delegation’s left, Cassy beside them. Melane sat to Dreya’s left, with Valeria and a few other elves filling the remainder of the chairs. All was quiet for a time, each individual carefully weighing their statements. No one wanted to be made a fool of in front of so many dignitaries.

The only person absent was Anshi, who had begged to be excused. 

“I don’t want to face their fears.” she told Dreya beforehand. “They know about Kespa and I, and they’ll use me as a scapegoat. I don’t want that, and it will divide our peoples. But, I have written a letter for you. Read it when the argument has become almost beyond reconciliation, at the penultimate fight.” Dreya had tried to find out what it had said, but Anshi would reveal nothing. She only warned that “my words lead to an unwelcome truth. They won’t like it, but if you reject it, defeat is the only option for our people.” Confused and somewhat nervous, Dreya had brought the letter. She could feel it in the pocket of her dress, crisp and defining.

Melane opened the council with firm but gentle dignity. 

“I would like to extend a welcome to you all.” she said. The general talking ceased gradually, but Valeria refused to stop chattering to Bryana, a shy girl who occupied the seat next to her.

“I would appreciate your attention,” Melane continued smoothly, her eyes on the two girls, “as we have many important matters to discuss in a relatively short period of time.” Bryana, mortified, froze and tried to disappear into her chair’s unusually large cushions. Valeria talked on as if nothing had happened.  _ Either she’s ignoring Mel, _ Dreya thought,  _ or she really doesn’t know that the world does not revolve around her. _

_ No matter, _ she concluded with a soft sigh,  _ this has gone far enough. _ She shifted in her seat and accosted Valeria with a cold stare.

“Valeria,” she said airily, “it’s customary to give the floor to important topics. Now, if what you did last night is more important than this council, you may continue. My only request is that you speak loudly so that we can all hear your story clearly.” Valeria flushed scarlet and fell silent. “Thank you.” Dreya told her. She smiled to Melane and then began to speak.

“Thank you all for coming. As you know, for the second time in our history our peoples are threatened by the danger of Kespa. This danger is not merely the chance of death, torture, fire, or other such risks that we have often overcome. No, Kespa has done this and we still survive. The true danger, which the Xarn are acutely aware of, is that of total annihilation. The fate offered by Kespa to her own kind is hard enough- torment in her prisons followed by slow death- but to the Xarn, Kespa offers assimilation. Capture and mutilation await any who fall, and they become a frail shell with no free will left to them. Rescue is impossible, and they await being cut down in battle.

“Now, I am not saying that victory is impossible. In fact, it is all too possible- that is the reason she still attacks the Xarn. That is why, after all the years of watchful peace, she suddenly declares war again. Kespa is afraid- afraid that somehow, despite all her victories and all her precautions, I will rise to defeat her.”

“Are you saying that these attacks are because of you?” Keplan’s voice rang out through the hall, seeming unnaturally loud after Dreya’s calm speech. “We have lost hundreds in battle, highness! How can you be the one to defeat her when you’re not even of age?” Murmurs erupted around the circle, both affirming and debating Keplan’s views. Dreya looked on absently, preparing her answer with deliberately slow control.

“I did not say that I was the cause.” she told him. “Rather, I waited for centuries before the imposter ruler forced me to reveal myself. That also is the explanation of my youth- since I did not choose the time, I was caught at an unseemly age. 

“However,” she continued, and her eyes glinted dangerously, “I’ve lived longer than any of your oldest royal advisors. By the standards of my people I am young, but to you I am ancient.”

Keplan backed off wisely. It wasn’t worth it to challenge Dreya, not here in front of her people. Besides, she had been perfectly polite when she came to Sirold’s court. The least he could do was return the favor. An expectant silence crept back in, but it didn’t last long.

“Well, would the great Andreya Orifax be so glad as to inform us of her plan?” It was Valeria who spoke, much recovered from the earlier incident and smoldering with anger. “You  _ do _ have a plan, don’t you?”

Anger flared up instantly in Dreya’s eyes, bur she quieted it. “The purpose of this Council, Valeria, is to decide on a course of action.” Her words were crisp, strained by control.

“You mean your  _ incredible _ brain was unable to decide on a  _ wonderful _ and  _ perfect _ solution?” A little smile had crept onto Valeria’s face. “You’re losing your touch, Andreya.” The grin had spread into her eyes now, burning out in unspoken disdain. “Now, if  _ I  _ were queen-”

“What then?” Dreya cried. “If you were queen, Valeria, we would be  _ dead! _ You had your chance, cousin, and it was two years too long.” Dreya was standing now, her attention totally focused on Valeria. “Do not sit there and criticize behind your hand, because I have the power to do and say things that would ruin your social prospects  _ forever _ .” Valeria was silent, trying to glare but really looking rather frightened. 

“Do not presume to threaten me.” Dreya growled in a voice just above a whisper. “I always defend myself.”

With that, Dreya turned and sat back down. The anger was gone, replaced by a state of utterly calm repose. “Perhaps we should discuss our plan of action.” she said to Sirold. “We’ve wasted an incredible amount of time already.” Valeria was whimpering faintly. Dreya ignored her. “Now, are there any ideas?”

Sirold cleared his throat. “Dreya,” he said, “our best hope seems to lie in battle.” Before he could finish, a concerned murmur flooded the room. Dreya sighed and sank her head into her hand.

“We must fight!” Sirold cried. “Our lives and very civilization depend upon it!” His eyes flew from one end of the circle to another, beholding nothing but disenchanted, worried people on the brink of an interracial feud. One Xarn in particular seemed especially worried.

“Your highness, why must we entangle ourselves in this?” Somehow, her wispy voice penetrated the self-absorbed thoughts filling the room. “Surely this is not our battle.” The piercing stares of the other Xarn around the room showed that hers was the popular opinion. Clearly, they regarded Kespa’s actions as an elf problem.

Dreya nodded. “You are absolutely right.” she said. “Why should you, whose very existences depend on resisting Kespa, bother to fight her?” The statement did little to calm the room. Elves and Xarn were now divided, and all the treaties of the past were about to be broken.  _ I have to do something fast, _ Dreya thought,  _ or we’re doomed. _ Suddenly, she remembered Anshi’s letter. Her hand entered her pocket, and she pulled it out. 

“I have here a letter.” she said. “This letter is from my dear sister and friend, Anshi Hitaro, who knows more about Kespa than almost anyone here.” For once, everyone was silent. The tale of Anshi’s possession had somehow spread, and Dreya suspected Tamox was to blame. She broke open the seal and pulled out the folded parchment. Opening it, she began to read:

_ My dear dignitaries and peoples of Tralnrt: _

_ I write to you now not out of fear or desperation, but simply out of sheer resolve. If you wish to ignore what I say, feel free- but do not mourn your folly when hope is extinguished. Do not blame me for the selective blinders of politics, for politics is only an excuse to postpone what must be done. You don’t understand? Let me speak plainly: we must unite. We must put aside our differences. We must recognize the folly of having scapegoats, and by doing so eliminate the problem. We must stop pointing fingers at our allies, and analyze our own faults. We must unite, or surely we will fail. Despite what some may say; battle is our only option now.  _

_ ‘Diplomacy!’ you cry. ‘Surely diplomacy will save us!’  _

_ Diplomacy? Ha! Will diplomacy save the Xarn who have fallen? Will diplomacy bring back Mayara and Darys Orifax? No, my friends. The time for diplomacy is over. The only negotiating I will do is through the language of swordplay. I will fight, even if I face the enemy on my own, and if I die I will die beneath the blue sky and pale stars. I will die knowing that I am a free woman. Not cowering in the filth of Kespa’s dungeons anymore. Not surrendering to despair and hiding in some dark hole. I will stand to challenge death, even if I stand ALONE. _

_ Yours most sincerely, _

**Anshi Hitaro**

Dreya’s voice trailed off. No one spoke, not even Valeria. Her eyes were downcast.

“I’m sorry.” she finally breathed.

“What?” Dreya asked.

“I’m sorry!” Valeria said. “I didn’t know… I mean, I knew she’d been captured but not that she’d been  _ there _ …”

Dreya’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“You… you’re trying to  _ apologize _ ?” she asked incredulously.

Valeria nodded.

“To me?” Dreya continued. “Me? Me, the Orifax slut? Me, who can’t even kill a Myrl? Me, the  _ wench _ ? You’re apologizing to  _ me _ ?”

Valeria, still averting her gaze, nodded again. Dreya stared at her for a few moments, and then she sighed inwardly.  _ I never dreamed this would happen, but no use keeping old grudges. _

“All right, Valeria.” she said. “I guess there’s three of us now.”

“You will not stand alone.” Sirold said, rising to his feet. His face was set and resolute. “Dreya, you have my sword.”

Dreya smiled to herself.  _ YES! _

The other Xarn looked horrified. Keplan in particular was giving his king an especially venomous look.

“Our very lives are at stake.” the king said. “How can we hide when our allies are willing to die? I will go to war, no matter what the consequences are. It’s our only hope.”

Dreya grinned broadly. “Now,” she said, “to our battle plans.”

* * *

Saela sank her head into her hands.  _ Why this? Why now? _ Keplan had told her many times that war was a path Sirold might choose to take, but she couldn’t believe he’d condemned his fellow Xarn to die.  _ They can’t make me kill! I won’t do it! _ Tamox looked at her, and she saw the confusion in his eyes.

“Sirold agreed to fight.” he said. “Why do you resent your people’s chance to live free?” He put his hand on her arm.

“NO!” she cried, standing up. “NOT free! NEVER free! Not while we destroy ourselves.”

“Saela, what are you talking about?”

“Some of us are not represented here today. Those absent are tortured, mutilated…DESTROYED while we do nothing and finally end their pain with a sword!” She was glaring out at everyone, but especially at Tamox. “We can’t call ourselves free until we STOP KILLING OUR OWN PEOPLE!”

Jerking her arm out of Tamox’s grasp, she ran out of the throne room, sobbing all the way.

Keplan settled back in his chair and sighed. He had suspected something like this would happen if war was the path Sirold chose to take. He thought of Saela, and of Deanna. 

Deanna, whom he would never see again.

Tamox stood. “I’ll go after her.” he said to Dreya. She looked to Keplan, and he absentmindedly nodded. Tamox turned and sprinted out the door. 

* * *

Tamox followed the sounds of Saela’s sobs down the hall. 

“Saela!” he called. “Saela, listen to me!” She fled down a corridor, not even turning back to hear him.

“Please!” Tamox continued. “Tell me what’s wrong!” It never occurred to him that his pursuit of her was rather odd. He never thought about the fact that they were absolutely alone in this corridor. He didn’t remember that she had no idea of his feelings toward her.  _ If only Cassy were here. _ he thought.  _ She could give me some help with what to say… _

The sound of crying led him to a tiny corner at the end of the corridor. A table was set there, with a chair on the opposite wall. Crammed into the space between the table and chair was Saela. Her pale green eyes softened when she saw him, and she began to cry even harder and tried to use her sleeve to hide her tears.

“Go away.” she said from behind the sleeve, her voice cracking.

“What’s wrong?” Tamox asked.

“Just  _ go away _ !” Saela replied angrily. 

Tamox knelt in front of her and reached out his hand. It landed on Saela’s knee, but she didn’t protest. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked again. “You can tell me, Saela. I promise your secret will be safe.” The sleeve dropped. Fighting through the tears, Saela did her best to answer. Each effort was fraught with gasps and sobs, but eventually she choked out “Mom’s gone.”

“Dead?” Tamox asked. She shook her head. _Oh…_ _so that’s it._ Saela’s mother had been chosen to fill an empty slot in the Myrl ranks. “So that’s why you don’t want to go to war.” he said. She nodded. 

“W-when she l-left, I- I couldn’t kill… n-not a-again…” She buried her head in her arms and wept silently.

“I’m sorry.” Tamox said, trying his best to be supportive. “Do you want some water or something?” She shook her head. He rocked back on his heels and glanced back toward the throne room. Dreya might need his support. He stood up. “Well,” he said, “if you want me, I’ll be in the throne room.”

“Don’t go!” she said suddenly. He raised an eyebrow. 

“What?”

“I- I just don’t want to be alone.” Her tears were under control now. Tamox rejoiced mentally. _She wants me around!_ _Now to find something comforting and strong to say._ All sorts of ideas ran through his head- _I’m sorry about your mother, but now is the time to look after the future… You know, I knew several Xarn while I lived with Kespa… Saela, I love you_ \- no, that one was out of the question- _oh, I’m never going to get this right! Let’s see… what about ‘Be strong, your mother would not want you to mourn forever’? Yes!!_ _Now, to say it:_

“Saela, do you want me to teach you how to fight?” 

_ Flames. _

“What?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Umm… I- well, I didn’t mean- what I meant to say is- do you want me to teach you how to fight?” he asked hopelessly.  _ There goes my romantic moment… _

“What did I just say?” she asked. “I said I didn’t  _ want _ to kill, Tamox. Remember?”

“I- I didn’t mean for combat! I meant for self-defense!”

She looked at him as if to say “Don’t lie to me.”

“Saela, you need to learn how to fight for yourself. If a Myrl attacks you, you need to know how to escape without killing it.”  _ Not exactly truthful, but what else am I supposed to say? _ He looked into her eyes, trying to make her see. “I’m trying to help you.” he said.

“Fine, Tamox.” she said. “You can teach me to fight.”

“Great!” he cried. “Come on, I know the perfect spot.”

* * *

“So we’re agreed?” Dreya asked.

“You have to find the location.” Sirold said.

“There’s a clearing a few hundred meters from the entrance to Tralnrt. It’s about a mile across, and it’s perfect for a battle.”

“That’s too close, don’t you think?”

“We won’t desert the city. A garrison of about three hundred can stay behind, and any who are not warriors will be armed in case of emergencies.”

“In that case, the army should assemble in about three days.”

“Three days?” Melane broke in. “Three days doesn’t seem like long enough to mobilize the entire population.”

“Mel, if Aora mans the armory we’ll have enough time.”

“I’m on it, highness.” The remarkably short, dark-haired elf left the room. 

“Who’s that?” Sirold asked.

“That’s Aora, our weapons designer and supervisor of the armory.”

“Is she capable?”

“Perfectly so.”

“Fine. Now we move on to the next problem: how do we know Kespa will meet us in battle?”

Dreya frowned. “I don’t know.” she said. “She has challenged me to the  _ ktaria _ , so we know she’s looking for a fight.”

“You’re not going to  _ face _ her, are you?” Melane cried. “Because if you do, I’ll - !”

“No, Mel, I’m going to stay with my people.”

“Good.”

“May we continue?” Sirold asked. 

“Yes.” Dreya said. “As I was saying, I think that Kespa will take the bait. I know she’s pushing for a fight, so we’ll encourage her. Now that I have strength to fight her, I can make my move to end this war forever.”

“Then it’s settled.” Sirold said, and he stood up. “I will prepare my warriors for battle.”

“As will I.” Both leaders stood, and the council was dismissed. Dreya moved out the door that Tamox and Saela had used.

“Where are you going?” Melane asked. “Aora will want to talk with you about weapons for the battle.”

“I’ve got to find Tamox.” she said. “He should know about our plans.”

* * *

“That’s good.” Tamox said, dodging a slash that Saela sent at him. The two of them had made their way to a deserted room near the hidden door to the  _ Prolythe _ , and Tamox had succeeded in teaching Saela a number of basic nonlethal moves with a knife. Anshi had loaned her weapon to him, and Saela had acquired a knife on her journey to Tralnrt.

“Should I twist away after I make my move?”

“Only if you follow through first. If you don’t support the attack, your balance is thrown out the window.”

“Let me try that again.” Another slash; and Saela twisted away as Tamox tried to counterattack. 

“That was great!” Tamox said. “Now, let’s try a practice duel. Remember, your objective is not to hurt me.”

He stood for a moment, and then charged her. He’d planned to let Saela have it easy, but she proved to be a difficult opponent. She had mastered the basic moves, and was combining them into various forms. Tamox found himself working up a sweat. This would be interesting.

“Listen,” he began, but he was interrupted.

“Are you alright, Saela?” It was Dreya. How she had found them was a mystery, but Tamox didn’t mind her presence. “I can talk to your father if that’s what you need.”

“I’m fine.” the girl answered, spinning into an attack. “Tamox talked me through it.” Dreya sent Tamox a congratulatory smile. He ignored it and instead deflected Saela’s dagger. She recovered faster then he thought she would have, and struck out with more force. When Tamox tried to counter her stab, she suddenly shoved forwards, using their blades’ contact to push him back. His arms waved wildly to prevent being shoved to the ground, and Saela seized upon his weakness and instinctively stabbed right at his heart.

Dreya saw the knife come down with perfect clarity.  _ A textbook stab, _ she realized,  _ one that is deadly at its ending. _ Then panic kicked in as she saw that Tamox was the target of this “textbook stab”.  _ I have to do something! _ But it was too late for any action. The dagger was closing fast… and then it happened.

The action was practically unconscious, almost like a flick of the wrist, as Dreya’s hand snapped up. At that moment, a faint shield came into being around Tamox’s torso. When Saela’s knife struck it, the blade shattered. 

Saela gasped and pulled the knife back. It returned to normal. She pushed forward, and it began to break again. Tamox, alive for the moment, looked up from the knife and focused on Dreya.

“What are you doing?” he asked. She raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I’m not doing anything, Tamox.”

“Well,  _ something _ happened, and you seem to be the likely cause.”

“And why would that be?”

“Your forehead.” he explained. “It’s glowing.”

“What?” the elf asked. “What do you mean, it’s glowing?”

“I mean exactly that.” Tamox said. “There’s a circular design on your forehead, and it’s glowing.” He winced inwardly, preparing for a major meltdown from Dreya.  _ This is probably something really terrible. _ he thought.  _ She’s probably dying, or has some terrible illness. Melane’s going to kill somebody. _ He had totally prepared himself for a disaster, and then the unthinkable happened.

Dreya burst out laughing and didn’t stop. For a while Tamox worried that she was going to have a breakdown, but after several seconds she still seemed just fine.

“Dreya?” Tamox asked. “Not to interrupt, but isn’t this a  _ bad _ thing?”

“Bad or good, it’s certainly unusual.” Saela put in, sheathing her knife.

“It’s just sort of funny.” Dreya sighed. “I mean, all the things that have gone wrong, and now I’m  _ glowing  _ and I don’t know why. What’s it look like? You may as well tell me.”

“What  _ what _ looks like?”

Dreya gave him the stare reserved for murderers and complete idiots.

“The part of my head that’s luminescing. Clear enough?”

Tamox nodded. “Umm… well, it’s a partial spiral that curls around a circular space. There are two crossing arcs that meet slightly above the center, and a line dividing the design.”

“Horizontal or vertical?” Dreya asked.

“What?”

“ _ Up and down  _ or  _ left and right _ , Tamox.”

“Oh. Up and down. And there’s a thing like a fish going the same direction. Now will you explain all this?”

Dreya shrugged. “I don’t know what happened any more then you.”

“I know what happened.” Saela said. “I almost killed my- I mean, I almost killed Tamox!”

“Besides that.” Dreya sighed. “I… I’m going to go talk to Mel. With my fortune, I’m suffering from some terrible disease.”

She turned and left the practice room, leaving the two fighters alone. 

Saela gave Tamox a long look.

“Is life with her always like this?” she asked.

“Nearly always.” Tamox answered. 

“It must be rather chaotic.”

“I prefer to think of it as…  _ adventurous _ .”

* * *

Dreya wandered toward the throne room halfheartedly. 

_ If only Mom were here. _ she thought, remembering the brief exchange within the  _ Prolythe _ .  _ She’d know exactly what this thing was. _

The teen stopped and opened the door leading to the next hallway. 

“Ow!”

Dreya froze.

“Mel?”

“Dreya!” the librarian sighed. “You hit me in the head, please try to be more mindful.”

“I’ve got other things on my mind.” Dreya muttered.

“Like what?” Melane asked, pushing her way through the door. “Is something - ?”

Her voice trailed off as she saw her charge. 

“What… what is that  _ thing  _ on your face?”

“I don’t know.” Dreya admitted. “All I know is that… well, it appeared.”

“It  _ appeared _ ? What did you do?”

Dreya related the story of Tamox’s near-death, and then Melane’s face became deadly serious.

“Dreya, I think I’ve seen that before.”

“A shield appearing from nowhere?”

“No, the mark on your forehead.”

“What? Where?”

Melane smiled. “It was on your mother’s coronation day.” she said. “It appeared to her just as it did for you when she first took the Medallion in hand.”

“What?”

“I know it has to be in a book somewhere. Give me a moment.”

She turned and ran down the hall, returning a few minutes later with an open book.

“Here!” she cried. “It’s called a  _ Lhaer _ . It shows you can use magic.”

“So everyone who draws upon magic gets one of these on their forehead?”

“Yes.”

“Is this natural? I mean, I thought that I didn’t have magic of my own.”

“You don’t. When Isilré’s daughter Ariel crafted the Medallion, she took the magic from her own blood and the blood of her people, sealing it within the metal. No one since her has ever been born with the ability to use magic.”

“That’s not exactly true.” Dreya said, remembering Krysty’s vortex and red fire.

“What?”

“Krysty- the elf who Cassy told you about- she could use magic on her own. And come to think of it, I did see a flash of silver on her brow a few times.”

Melane frowned. “That’s odd.” she said. “But you’re merely drawing on the Medallion.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s in your  _ Lhaer _ .” Melane pushed Dreya toward one of the ornamental mirrors hanging on the wall. The  _ Lhaer _ was faint but still visible. “According to the book, this partial spiral on the outer edge means you’re an Orifax. The crossing arcs indicate your sex- there would be a line dividing them if you were male. The eye-shaped oval indicates that you draw your power from a magical object, and this fish is your individual sign.”

“Individual? Does that mean you can identify a magic-user by their  _ Lhaer _ ?”

“Yes. Every  _ Lhaer _ is completely unique to its magic-user.”

Dreya grinned broadly. “Mel, I get the idea we might just win this war.”

* * *

Aora Kahn bent over her forge. She had waited months for this moment, and nothing was going to ruin it for her. It hadn’t been easy- there had been the careful search and collection of the ores she’d needed, then the extensive tempering process with just the right amount of magic woven into the steel, then the selection of the leather and metal and the construction of the delicate hinge at the balance point of the staff, and now the blades were almost complete. Soon, she would have the ultimate weapon- a silverbolt.

She grinned momentarily, thinking to herself about the coming battle. _Soon, everything will be different. No more whispers, no more memories…_ _everything will be normal again._

“Come on.” she murmured. The final blade was on the forge, but it wasn’t taking to the strengthening spells. “I forged you myself. I’ve spent months working on you. Come on, just take the spell. It won’t hurt you.”

“Aora?” 

The elf straightened, pressing her back against the forge. 

“Who is it?”

“Dreya.”

“Come in.” Dreya entered, glancing at the walls covered in various forms of weaponry.

“Is the armory fully stocked?” she asked, examining a flail with silver filigree on its handle

“As stocked as possible, Highness.” Aora replied nervously.

“Dreya, Aora. Please.”

“Fine. What can I do for you, Dreya?” Aora’s violet eyes were wide, reflecting the torchlight.

Dreya tried to peer over Aora’s shoulder. The smith was about a foot shorter than she was, and she squirmed uncomfortably at the scrutiny. “Am I interrupting you?” she asked. “Is there something on the forge?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Aora assured her, trying even harder to block Dreya’s view. “It’s a project, that’s all. I have some steel that won’t take a spell.”

“I can come back later.” Dreya said, stepping back.

“No, really.” Aora said. “It’s fine. What do you need?”

“I just want your permission to pick out a sword.”

“Did Mayara’s break?” Dreya wielded her mother’s sword, and there had been a number of anti-shattering enchantments upon it.

“It’s not for me, it’s for Tamox.” Dreya informed her. “He only has a knife, and he needs a better weapon.”

“Oh. In that case, feel free to take anything you want.”

Dreya nodded, but she didn’t leave.

“Aora… are you all right? Is there anything you need?”

The smith shook her head, one hand creeping up to touch the silver locket about her neck. “No.” she said. “There’s nothing.”

Dreya sighed and put a reassuring hand on the diminutive elf’s shoulder.

“It will be over soon, Aora. I promise.”

Aora’s head dropped in an attempt to hide the tears that filled her eyes. Her shoulders shook in an effort to contain her myriad of emotions, and she finally sank into the chair at her planning table.

“You… you’re going to kill her, aren’t you?” she moaned.

Dreya closed her eyes.  _ I should have known this was coming. _

“Yes, Aora.” she said listlessly. “I’m going to kill her.”

Aora slammed her fist into the table. Her mouth tightened, but she said nothing.

“I’ll leave you to your work.” Dreya said, and hastily exited the room.

Aora stood slowly.  _ I’ve got to forget… got to STOP… _ With deliberate steps, she returned to her forge. The steel had taken the spell at last, and Aora picked up a hammer for the last shaping of the blade. Each pounding blow to the metal seemed to take a bit of the sadness and anger with it.

_ I’ve got to forget… _

SLAM.

_ I’ve got to forget… _ __

SLAM.

_ She isn’t my sister anymore, she’s a murderer and a traitor!!! _

SLAM.

_ I WILL be on that battlefield. _

SLAM.

_ I’ve sacrificed everything for this chance, and I won’t miss it! _

SLAM.

Aora managed a brief smile as the blade came into shape. Looking at the red-hot metal brought a swell of pride in her accomplishments that carried out all of her bitterness. No one had wielded a silverbolt since Isilré herself, and she was confident that hers would be even better than that of the legendary queen.

* * *

Dreya searched through the general chaos of Aora’s personal armory. Tralnrt’s weapons vault was spotlessly clean and painstakingly organized, but the weapons designer’s own collection was piled on the floor of a tiny closet. Dreya reached for what looked like the hilt of a sword, but missed it and came up holding a mace.  _ What does she have this for?  _ Dreya thought. She rummaged around at the bottom of the pile and pulled out a Myrl broadsword and a miniature flail.  _ No… _ Finally, though, she chose a thin rapier with a black leather scabbard.  _ A rapier’s not too different from a knife, and it’s certainly easier to handle than a sword. _

“Find everything?” It was Aora, looking brighter and much recovered from her earlier meltdown.

“Oh, yes.” Dreya said. “I think I’ll give him this rapier.”

“What sort of weapon is he used to?”

“A knife.” 

Aora sighed. “Then what he needs is a dirk or a long dagger. The fighting style of a knife is completely different than the fighting style of a rapier.” She was glad to have a problem to focus on. Without work, there was nothing to do but count the hours until battle and fight off memories of her sister.

“He’ll learn.” Dreya assured the woman. “He was created to be the perfect weapon.”

“By whom?”

“Kespa. But he’s on our side.”

Aora raised an eyebrow. “I look forward to talking with him- and to seeing him fight.”

“I look forward to seeing you fight.” Dreya answered. “Just what is it you were making in there?”

“It’s a project of mine.” Aora said with a slight smile. “You’ll see it soon enough.”

Dreya grinned. “Whatever it is, it’ll be perfect.”

“I try to keep my standards high.” Aora said with a smile. “See you on the battlefield, then?”

“The battlefield.” Dreya agreed.  _ Now, to find Tamox… _

* * *

“…and if you step like this,” Dreya countered, brandishing the rapier, “then you can block the attack like so.” She twisted her blade and pulled it free of Tamox’s attack. “Good, good! Now step back!”

Tamox frowned and focused harder, trying to disarm Dreya. “This- it’s harder- than it looks.” he panted, gasping for air. “Can- can we- take- take a break?”

Dreya nodded, her own skin aglow with perspiration. “Five minutes.” she sighed, sinking onto the floor of the practice room. “No more, understand?”

“But Dreya, we’ve been in here for at least an hour!” Tamox cried. “I think I’ve got it.”

“You have to know.” Dreya argued. “Otherwise, you’re dead on the battlefield, and what good are you to me then?”

Tamox moaned, shoulders heaving from exhaustion. “Dreya, I’ve got it. And I’m walking out of this room.” He stood wearily, leaning on his rapier and moving towards the door.

Dreya was too quick for him. Before Tamox was out of the room, she had darted in front of him, holding her own rapier high. 

“Beat me,” she explained, “and you leave.”

Tamox smiled. “You’re on.” 

He raised his own blade high in recognition of his opponent, and then dropped into a fighting crouch and charged at Dreya.

The blades met low, flashing and twisting. Dreya realized quickly she’d made a mistake- Tamox did know what he was doing.  _ But I’m not about to let him win. _

“You know,” she said, “I took classes on this.” Her rapier flashed up and deflected a stab.

“Really?” Tamox asked, moving to find an unprotected side. “Because I detect an air of incompetence.” He thrust forward, taking Dreya by surprise. She parried furiously, but he was forcing her backward. Finally, with one flick of his wrist, he sent her sword flying.

“Yield.” he announced, pointing the rapier blade at her throat.

Dreya smiled and stepped aside. “I think you’ll do just fine out there…”

* * *

Saela rolled over, unable to sleep. It wasn’t just the fact that she was wrapped in a bedroll instead of lying on a comfortable mattress, or that she was only one of dozens crammed into the throne room for the night. No, this was an internal problem. Every time she closed her eyes and tried to clear her head, she found herself thinking about one thing: Tamox. It wasn’t unusual - he had filled her head ever since she had come to Tralnrt. Even before then, she’d secretly mourned when he disappeared along with Dreya.  _ I used to talk with him out of compassion, but lately… there’s something different about him. _ She had never asked him about the missing two years, but she sensed that the change lay there. Something had turned Tamox from a frightened, unsure child with a lot to learn into a strong, capable almost-adult.  _ But what could it be? _

And there was another issue: how to get closer to this new Tamox without offending him or crossing a line she’d later regret? She couldn’t afford to trust her father - ever since her mother’s abduction, Keplan had kept his daughter closer than ever. Instead of hiding deep in the forest with the rest of their clan, he had insisted that they accompany the king to Tralnrt. His explanation was that Sirold would need all the help he could get, but Saela knew the truth. Keplan was terrified of losing her, so he had placed her in the safest situation possible.  _ I wish he’d just leave me alone. _ she thought crossly.  _ After all, I’m not exactly a child anymore. I can do whatever I want - even fall in love. _

That thought startled her. Was it true that she had feelings for someone?  _ Probably Tamox, _ she thought ruefully,  _ seeing as I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him for days. _ She sighed contentedly and settled into her bedroll. If romance was what she needed, she’d find a way to make it happen… no matter what her father thought about it.

* * *

Dreya hadn’t slept at all the previous night, her mind occupied with the next day’s battle. And now that the morning was here, she was filled with an energy she couldn’t explain.

She wasn’t the only one. Lhiar was abuzz with activity. The population had to be armed, people had to be fed, swords had to be sharpened. She, Anshi, and Sirold had gone over final battle plans, and scouts were visiting the field to plan out the position of the troops.

“I want rank formations!” Dreya cried. “Anyone who’s carrying a weapon, get in the town square now!”

Elves and Xarn poured from the palace and surrounding homes to meet in the town square. Anshi sent out orders on regiment position for the Guard.

“I want alternating!” she cried. “Elf regiment, then Xarn, then elf, then Xarn! Got it?” 

The individual captains had their regiments formed in minutes, and Sirold divided his own warriors into groups.

“Archers in the rear!” Dreya shouted to the Xarn. “You hear me, Xarn? You have a bow, you get in the back!”

“Wait! Dreya!” It was Saela.

“I thought you weren’t fighting.” Dreya said.

“I’m not. Could I serve with the healers?”

Dreya scrutinized her.

“Can you heal?”

“I have basic training.” Saela said. “And they can always use a hand.”

Dreya threw up her hands and pointed to the small group of brown-clad medics. “Over there, but be quick about it!”

“Front regiment!” Anshi called. “Keplan, King Sirold, Dreya, Melane!”

“Where do I go?” It was Tamox, Cassy on his shoulder.

Anshi eyed the lines. “Down there.” she said. “Between Lenora and Jaden.” Tamox ran to his place and sighed with relief. It was not wise to mess with Anshi now.

Dreya darted into line. Sirold stood beside her, tense with adrenaline.

“Do you think we can win?” he asked her.

She shrugged. “No idea. But we can go down fighting.”

Anshi, after reviewing the formation, slipped into place next to Tamox.

“Milady,” she reported, “all warriors in formation and ready to march!”

Dreya nodded and stepped out to face the masses of soldiers.

“I don’t have any encouragement to give.” she said. “I don’t have any inspiration to offer, other than that of freedom at last. What we have endured, no speech can describe. All I can say is this: for years, we have hidden in fear. We hid when my parents were killed. We hid as the Xarn were annihilated. We hid as Kespa killed our families. Yesterday, we hid. Today, however; is a different matter entirely. 

“Today, we fight!!”

Applause rang out through Tralnrt, and Dreya raised her hand, Mayara’s sword clasped in her fist.

“Forward!” she cried. “Forward to a free tomorrow!”


	13. Field of Honor

Dreya stood on the edge of the clearing, Sirold by her side. Kespa’s armies were assembled on the far side, their leader a bright red stain against the green of the forest.

“It’s so quiet.” Dreya murmured. “Almost a normal day, can you believe it?”

“Take it in.” Sirold advised. “When the battle is too much for you to handle, close your eyes and think of the birds and the sun on the leaves.”

“What good does that do?” Dreya asked. “I’ll need my full concentration on staying alive.”

Sirold looked her in the eyes. “It keeps you from going insane.” he said.

“Your highness, everything is ready.” It was Aora. Dreya nodded.

“The entrance is guarded?”

“Yes.”

“We have a medical center set up?”

“With healers manning it. And I checked; we have the extra estril antidote you requested.”

“Then we wait.” Dreya announced. Aora nodded and stepped back.

“Wait?” Sirold asked. “For what?”

“For Kespa to send up an arrow. When that happens, we know that she is ready for the battle to start. We march onto the field, and then we engage her.”

“Why not just charge her?” It was Tamox, slightly behind Dreya.

“It’s tradition to give your enemy the respect they deserve. Kespa may be a usurper, but we have to let her start the battle in her own sweet time.”

“And we can’t send up an arrow and let her march?”

“We’re the defenders. She has to make the first move.”

“Look!” It was a cry from Anshi, who was standing to Dreya’s right at the far end of the line. “She’s sent up the arrow!”

Dreya smiled to herself. “Let’s do this.” she said. “All soldiers, move out!”

* * *

Kespa stood, arms crossed, at the head of her armies.  _ This is too easy. _ she thought.  _ All I have to do is let my Myrl do their work. _ She stared across the fields at Dreya and Sirold’s combined forces.  _ Even their allied warriors are no match for my armies. _ she realized.  _ The battle will be over before it starts, and I’ll have come all this way for nothing. _

_ Still, there are a few perks. _ Kespa decided.  _ Andreya needs looking after, and I haven’t seen a free Xarn in years. _ She closed her eyes and sent her mind across the field.  _ I’ll make it as long as it can be.  _ She glossed over Sirold and focused on Dreya.  _ I may not be able to penetrate your soul, but I can break through to find your fears… _

* * *

Anshi pulled her broadsword from its sheath and gave it a few practice swings. There was a long fight ahead of her, and she needed to be sure her arm could handle it.  _ Maybe I should have a lighter weapon, just in case. _

“Tamox!” she called. He had grabbed his rapier and was going through the motions of a fight as the host drew ever nearer to battle.

“What?”

“Can I have my knife back?”

“I gave it to Saela.”

“Isn’t she staying with the healers?”

“If she’s attacked, she’ll need a good blade.”

Anshi sighed. “Very well, Tamox. Just know that if I can’t hold my sword for the entire day and as a result I faint from exhaustion, it’s up to you to drag my unconscious body from the battlefield.”

“You? Faint?” Tamox joked. “I’d like to see that happen.”

“Oh, leave off.” Anshi said, punching him in the arm. “It’d be your fault.”

“Really? My fault?” Tamox paused to savor the words he’d just spoken. “There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.”

Anshi laughed. “First time? Are you sure there haven’t been others?”

“Like what?” Tamox asked. “In Kespa’s dungeon, I was a very good fighter!”

“Yes, you were.” Anshi agreed, smiling. Suddenly, a sharp cry broke through the general buzz of the army. 

“What was that?” Anshi said, whipping her head toward the sound.

“Hey, that came from the front lines!” Tamox cried.

“Oh, no- Dreya!”

Anshi sprinted over to her friend. She was alive, thankfully, but was supporting a prostrate Kieral in her arms. A black-feathered Myrl arrow sprang from the Xarn girl’s throat.

“Medic!” Dreya cried. “Somebody get me a medic!”

Saela rushed up with another elf, supporting a stretcher. “What’s wrong?” she asked, then she gasped as she saw her friend. “Kieral!”

“She’s alive.” Anshi reassured her. 

“Will she be all right?” Sirold asked. “You’re more familiar with their weapons than we are.”

“I don’t know.” Anshi said. She examined the entry wound. “Good. It’s missed the blood vessels. She’ll live. But there’s a chance the arrow was poisoned.”

Sirold’s eyes hardened. “If they’ve poisoned my daughter, they will pay.”

“And you won’t be the only one to collect.” Saela said, standing apart from the medic. She pulled Anshi’s knife from her belt. “I will fight in her place.”

Dreya’s eyes widened.  _ So she will fight in the end… _

Sirold smiled. “Kieral couldn’t have asked for a better replacement.” he said. 

“Saela, you will do no such thing.”

Keplan strode up and plucked the knife from his daughter’s hand. 

“Father!” she cried, turning on him with blazing eyes.

“It’s too dangerous.” he said. “Now, return to the medical tent.”

“What about Kieral?” Saela persisted.

“The king can avenge his daughter, Saela.” Keplan said. “Your place is out of harm’s way.”

“No!” Saela cried, snatching the knife back. 

“Give me that knife, Saela!”

“You don’t understand!” she shot back. “Ever since Mother was taken, you’ve hidden like a coward!”

“I have protected you.” Keplan explained, trying to rationalize with his daughter. “I thought you hated the fighting…”

“I DON’T WANT PROTECTION!” Saela screamed, tears welling from her eyes. “Even if I hate the fighting, sometimes it needs to be done!”

Keplan stepped back, his eyes wide with surprise.

“You… you’re my daughter, it… I have to keep you safe, Saela…”

She glared at him. 

“I’m still allowed to live, Father.” she said, turning away and vanishing into the crowd of Xarn.

Keplan sighed.

“Let her go.” Sirold counseled. 

“Yes.” Dreya said. The two men turned to her.

“How?” Keplan asked. “She’s all I have left.”

“Your wife was taken?” Dreya said.

Keplan nodded. “It’s been almost three cycles. Her name was Deanna.”

“How did Saela react?” Dreya asked.

“She pulled away.” he said. “And she began refusing to fight, not even for self-defense.”

“Then you should encourage her.” Dreya said. “She’s finally accepted that Myrl are Myrl, and not her mother.”

“But what if she’s hurt?” Keplan pressed. “Or worse, taken?”

“I can help with that.” Anshi said.

“How?” Keplan asked. 

Anshi smiled slightly. “By giving her a protector. Someone who’ll look after her and make sure she comes to no harm.”

Keplan raised a cursory eyebrow. “Someone like…?”

“Tamox.” Anshi said. Dreya’s eyes lit up with mirth and her hand flew to her mouth to cover an involuntary burst of laughter. 

“Tamox?” Keplan repeated, still unconvinced. “Are you certain he’s… up to the task?”

Dreya nodded, still shaking from laughter. “Keplan, Tamox may be…  _ unusual _ … but I’d trust him with my life.”

Keplan sighed. “Very well. But if anything happens to her…”

“Don’t worry.” Anshi assured him. “I’ll tell Tamox myself.” She nodded to Dreya and ran back to her position.

“Hey.” Tamox said. “What was the emergency?” 

“Kieral.” Anshi said. “She’s been struck by a Myrl arrow, probably poisoned.”

“Does Saela know?”

“Does she know?” Anshi laughed. “She’ll put my blade to good use before too long. She’s fighting in Kieral’s place.”

Tamox started. “She- she’s fighting? Will she be all right?”

“What do you mean,  _ will she be all right? _ ” Anshi asked. “You taught her how to fight, Tamox!”

He groaned. “It’s just that- well, I really don’t want- I mean, she’s the daughter of the king’s counselor, it would be disastrous if something were to-”

“You don’t want her to be hurt.” It was Cassy, having flown from her perch in the medical center. “Don’t worry, Tamox. She’s not afraid.”

“Afraid to fight, or to die?” he asked. 

“Both.” Cassy said. “Her mind is clear - she’s got an incredible strength of will.”

“I know.” Tamox said. “That’s what I respect about her.”

“And there’s no need to worry about her.” Anshi said. “If anything goes wrong, you’ll be the one protecting her.”

Tamox flinched.

“What did you say?”

“You’ve been appointed official protector to Saela.” Anshi said, giggling at his dumbstruck expression. “That means if she’s hurt, Keplan will blame you, not her.”

“Why would he blame her?” Tamox asked. “She’s done nothing.”

“Really?” Anshi asked. “I think it’s a little more than nothing.” She related how Saela had turned against Keplan and stormed off into the crowds. 

“Wow.” Tamox admitted. “I’m… more than a little surprised at her.”

“Of course you are.” Cassy said. “That spirit is something you don’t see every day.”

“I guess I better go find her.” Tamox said.

“No.” Anshi said. “I’ll bring her back. You stay here so that Keplan can talk to you if he wants.” She strode away into the vast sea of people, realizing that it would be nearly impossible to find the Xarn girl here.  _ No wonder she just vanished. _ Anshi thought.  _ It’s the perfect place to hide. _

Consumed by her thoughts, Anshi turned to her right and crashed headlong into a soldier.

“Oh!” she cried, stepping back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“It’s nothing.” the soldier said. He was taller than Anshi, with long blonde hair pulled back in a low tie. 

“Could you help me?” she asked, her eyes resting on the ugly scar that crossed his face. “I’m looking for a Xarn girl, armed with a knife.”

The soldier sighed. “She’s over there. Nearly knocked me over.” He pointed to where Saela stood. She was talking with Aora.

“Many thanks.” Anshi said, walking over to the two women.

“Anshi, hello!” Aora said. She was smiling. “I’ve just been talking with Saela here. She’s going to be in the battle.”

“I know.” Anshi said. Saela turned to her.

“Are you here to bring me back to my father?” she asked. Her eyes were full of fire. 

“No.” Anshi said, shaking her head. “I’m here to tell you that your father has appointed Tamox as your official protector.” She pointed to where she had come from. “He’s over there.”

Saela nodded. “I’ll join him shortly. Aora was just telling me about her bag.”

“I was not!” Aora argued playfully, laughing. “She thinks she can get me to reveal my masterpiece before it’s ready.”

“You’ll have no luck.” Anshi said. “If Aora has created a weapon, she won’t bring it out until it can be  _ used _ .”

“And when will that be?” Saela asked.

“Whenever Dreya decides to move out.” Anshi said. “Which should be soon.”

* * *

Kespa opened her eyes. The plan was going perfectly.  _ The arrow is launched, and now I begin my assault.  _ She had found the perfect strategy in the most unlikely place- an extracted memory from Dreya’s mind. It was simple, really- only an image. An image of a serpent in the rain.

* * *

Anshi didn’t notice the shaking at first. Deep in a conversation with Aora, she wrote it off as pre-battle stress- until Saela screamed.

Her head whipped around. The Xarn girl stood stock-still, pointing at a hump of earth that was bubbling up from the ground. It grew higher and higher, towering above the heads of the elves and Xarn, until suddenly, it burst.

A huge head slithered free of the earth, followed by a great serpentine body. The creature was dark, with red eyes the color of old blood. Dragon horns erupted from its skull, with drooping whiskers waving gently in the warm breeze. It looked down at Saela, and she stood frozen.

“MOVE!” Anshi yelled, throwing herself bodily at Saela and knocking the girl to the ground. The creature’s head swooped down over where they had been standing. Aora dove into a roll and evaded the teeth, opening her bag as she came up. The long silverbolt seemed to merge with her hand as she stretched it skyward.

“Now,” she said, “I restore my honor!” She spun the weapon in her hand and leapt at the creature.

“What do I do?” Saela asked, panicking. “What do I do?”

“Go! Find Tamox!” Anshi said, picking herself up off the ground. Saela looked at her dubiously.

“But I-”

“GO!” Anshi screamed, sprinting towards where Dreya had been. 

Saela looked fearfully at Aora, locked in battle with the creature, and then darted off. 

“Tamox! TAMOX!”

* * *

“Dreya!”

Dreya whipped her head around and fired straight into the mouth of yet another creature. Anshi was running towards her, dodging elves and Xarn and violet fire from the mouths of the monsters. 

“Anshi!” she called. “Over here!”

Anshi slowed next to her, breathing heavily.

“Dreya, what are these things?”

Dreya shuddered, remembering her last encounter. “They’re dragon serpents.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how I know that, I just do. And I’ve faced one before.”

“You faced one before? I can assume this means you won?”

“Of course I won.”

“Well then, how in the flames do we kill them?” Anshi asked. 

“The head.” Dreya said. “Shoot it, stab it, fry it in burning oil, it doesn’t matter. The head is the only vulnerability.”

“Shoot for the head!” Anshi called to the archers around her. “The head!!”

Bows twanged and arrows flew into the air. Most clattered harmlessly against the scaled bodies of the dragon serpents, but a few found their marks in the eyes of the beasts. Dreya sheathed her own sword and pulled her bow free.

“The first time I did this,” she said as she aimed, “I had to climb up the back and stab it through the skull.”

“Why couldn’t you shoot it?” Anshi inquired.

“It was night.”

“But then why - GET DOWN!”

Anshi flung herself to the ground as a serpent’s head swooped downward, jaws open and spewing purple fire. Dreya sunk to her knees, one hand shielding her head. Her other arm was extended upward, as if to ward off the creature, and suddenly a transparent shield flowed out from her palm and spread out to cover both Anshi and herself. The violet flames dissipated harmlessly off of the barrier. Dreya glared upwards and suddenly the shield flew up and wrapped itself about the monster’s throat. She closed her fist and the transparent mass closed in with a  _ crack _ that snapped the serpent’s neck.

Anshi blinked multiple times, trying to reassure herself that she wasn’t hallucinating.

“Dreya,” she gasped, “what did you do?”

Dreya turned back to her and smiled, tapping a silver design on her forehead. 

“It’s all in the  _ Lhaer. _ ” she explained, her grin the brightest thing Anshi had seen that day.

Suddenly, the two girls dove apart as one of the serpents came slithering between them. On its back stood Aora, who had thrust her silverbolt deep in the spine of the creature.

“Dreya!” she called. “How do you kill this thing?”

“Hold this.” Dreya said, tossing her bow to Anshi. She took off running and sprang up beside Aora.

“You have to get at its brain!” she yelled, her voice barely a murmur against the rumble of the earth around the serpent’s body. “Stab it in the head!”

Aora grimaced. “Not exactly easy to get to, is it?”

“That’s the point!” Dreya called. “It’s supposed to be hard!”

The other elf smiled and pulled her silverbolt free. “My sister could never resist giving me a challenge.” She twirled the weapon experimentally, grinned even wider, and ran lightly up the body of the dragon serpent. She slid to a stop on the head and leaned on the spear, pulling herself to her feet. Her eyes flew across the battlefield to the splash of red indicating Kespa.  _ You just stand there, looking on while everyone else does the work for you. _ She sighed and glanced down at the skull of the dragon serpent, marking out her stabbing place.  _ Some things never change, my sister. Even a new name can’t hide who you are. _

Raising her silverbolt high, Aora plunged it deep into the brain of the dragon serpent.  _ Here’s to you, Cesla Kahn. Feel this pain… and think of me. _

The dragon serpent rolled over and ground to a halt. Dreya was thrown to the ground, but Aora held on to the silverbolt with all her might. When the death throes finally halted, she dropped to the ground.

“Well,” she said to no one in particular, “that was easy.”

“Nice silverbolt.” Dreya commented.

“Do you like it?” Aora asked, bracing a foot against the dead beast and yanking it free. “I think it’s a little too… well,  _ bright. _ ”

“No, no, I think it’s perfect.” Anshi said. “Could I see it?”

Aora handed the weapon over. Anshi handed Dreya’s bow back to the queen and took the silverbolt from Aora, spinning it and wincing involuntarily as the sun reflected off of the enchanted blades. “It’s got a perfect balance.” she commented, nodding her approval and returning the weapon to the armorer.

“And,” Aora said, “it splits apart.” She twisted the joint at the balance point of the staff and pulled the stabbing spear and diamond-shaped sword apart. “Two weapons in one.”

“Well, put those weapons to use and go help the others.” Dreya said. “This is a war, after all.”

“I do need to find Tamox and Saela, and check up on Cassy.” Anshi agreed. She handed Dreya back her bow. “See you later.”

The three women split up and set out, each confident that they would have an exciting story to share when the battle was nothing but memory.

* * *

Anshi ran across the field in a smooth lope, her eyes on the enemy.  _ The dragon serpents were a good idea, but the Myrl haven’t moved. When are they going to attack? _ She spotted Tamox and Saela working with a group of spear-wielding Xarn to bring down a dragon serpent and moved to join them, darting in next to Tamox.

“Need any help?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “We’ve got this covered, thanks.” 

Anshi nodded to Saela. “And her?”

Tamox blushed slightly. “She’s doing very well.”

Anshi smiled. “When this is over, tell her how you feel.”

He grinned. “I plan to.”

* * *

Kespa massaged her brow. She had learned to distance herself from the dragon serpents and still maintain their resilience and adaptability, but their many deaths still brought a dull throb to her temples.  _ My enemies are holding their own… perhaps I should make the game more interesting. _ She smiled cruelly.  _ I wonder, how will they react when I take their precious leader? _

* * *

A deafening  _ crack _ echoed across the sky. Dreya’s head flew up to see a green flash of light illuminating the center of the field. She was on the fringe of the battle, and she looked to see Kespa standing alone between the armies.

“NOW HEAR THIS!” Kespa cried, and somehow her voice was thundering and echoing across the forest. “I CHALLENGE ANDREYA ORIFAX TO SINGLE COMBAT UNDER THE  _ KTARIA _ !!”

Dreya flinched.  _ This was exactly what I feared.  _

“Don’t do it.” a voice whispered in her ear. It was Cassy, who had taken refuge in the sky from the dragon serpents. “She’s planning something.”

“Of course she’s planning something!” Melane cried. She had slipped to Dreya’s side. “She’s Kespa!”

“Relax.” Dreya said, patting the air with her sword-free hand. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“Oh, really?”

The voice made them all jump. It was Kespa, standing a few inches from Dreya and the army. She was smiling evilly. “Because, you see, I find that stupidity personifies you, Dreya.”

Dreya glared. “I could kill you right now, you know.”

Kespa laughed, her scarlet hair seemingly stained with the blood of her enemies. “You could, but you won’t. You’re too curious. You think I’ve got something planned.” 

The elves drew closer about Dreya, wary of a trap. 

Suddenly, Kespa shot out an arm. She grabbed Dreya and pulled her close. “And you know what?” she whispered in the young queen’s ear. “You’re exactly right.” 

She laughed shrilly- and vanished into thin air, pulling Dreya along with an earth-shaking  _ boom. _

* * *

“DREYA!” Melane screamed, charging out onto the field. She realized quickly that this was a bad idea. The Myrl had begun to move, and they swept onto the battlefield like a wave on the beach. Melane darted back into the protection of the army, cursing herself for not keeping one hand on Dreya.

“Calm down.” Cassy said. Her face was lined with concern, but her eyes were steady. “There’s nothing we can do now.”

“ _ Nothing we can do? _ ” Melane shrieked. “There’s plenty we can-!”

“What’s going on?” Anshi asked, jogging up beside Melane with Tamox and Saela following.

“Oh, nothing.” Melane scoffed. “It’s just that Dreya has been snatched away by Kespa into the  _ ktaria _ ! Otherwise, everything’s perfect!”

The Myrl hit the army hard, and suddenly everyone was adrift in a sea of foes.

“The  _ ktaria _ ?” Anshi cried, slicing and hacking her way back to Melane and the others. “Oh, this is not good, this is bad, this is terrible, we have to get her back! TAMOX! CASSY!” Both individuals turned to look at her. Tamox was dodging Myrl, while Cassy floated easily above it all.

“What?” Cassy asked.

“This isn’t a good time!” Tamox cried, standing back-to-back with Saela.

“WE NEED TO TALK!” Anshi yelled, pointing with her sword at a rock some distance away. “OVER HERE!”

She carved her way through and Cassy followed.

“Come on!” the Quirlwing called. “We don’t have all day!”

Tamox groaned.  _ But there’s so much I need to say…  _ They were in so much danger. Anshi had told him to come clean with Saela after the battle, but now…  _ I’m not so sure there will  _ be _ an “after the battle”.  _ Suddenly he realized that the idea of leaving her alone in the sea of Myrl was not an idea he found appealing, and that even considering deserting her brought nausea and an uncomfortable knot in his throat.

“I’m not so sure your father will want me to go.” he tried.

She sighed. “He’ll get over it.”  _ Come on, Tamox, if you’re going to tell me something than get on with it! _

“But I…” he insisted, but his voice trailed off and he sighed. 

“Go.” Saela pressed. “You need to.”

“But if I don’t come back, there’s something that you have to…” Tamox’s voice cracked and broke. The lump in his throat had swelled and was choking him. He looked to Anshi and Cassy, safe behind the rock, then to Saela, then back to Anshi. His eyes welled, and without finishing his thought he turned and walked several steps toward his friends, eyes ahead. The battle was swarming around them, leaving a tiny but brief island of space. Suddenly, Tamox halted. There would be only a few moments more… and that was all he needed. He turned back suddenly; his dark coat streaming behind him as he ran to Saela, swept her off her feet, wrapped her in a hug, and kissed her.

His tears escaped, mingling with her own as she returned the hug. The acknowledgement of the feelings they had both felt but had been terrified of revealing was such a relief. It was endless bliss, like they were the only two in the world and nothing else mattered…and then a powerful wind swept between the two of them and pushed them apart as if to remind them of reality. “Goodbye.” Tamox whispered hoarsely, and then he turned away and ran to join Anshi, his eyes resolutely staring straight ahead.

Saela stood alone, both hands over her heart. The wind tugged at her white hair, and her eyes welled with more tears.  _ It’s time. _ There was no escaping this war. She drew her dagger once more, turning to face the Myrl behind her.  _ Goodbye, Tamox. _

* * *

Tamox arrived at the rock that Anshi and Cassy crouched behind. He was crying softly, but he turned his face away, trying to hide it. 

“Go ahead.” Anshi said softly, putting her hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright.” 

“I think I’ll marry her someday.” he answered hoarsely. “I can’t help crying.” 

Cassy giggled softly. 

“I’m serious!” Tamox shot at her. “I love Saela more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“And you never SAID anything?” Cassy cried. “Tamox, I’m surprised at you!”

“What?” he asked.

“Well,” she said, “you aren’t exactly good at hiding things.  _ I _ didn’t even suspect your crush was anything but that, and  _ I’m _ a telepath!”

Tamox glared. “You think it’s  _ easy _ , living with love? You think that I can’t have feelings, just because I’m not  _ normal _ ?”

“I didn’t mean-”

“I’m ALLOWED to love, Cassy!” Tamox cried. “I can have someone, even if you think it’s impossible!” Cassy wisely shut up and let Tamox cry. 

After a few moments, she spoke again. 

“We really need to get Dreya back.” she said. Tamox wiped his eyes on his sleeve and slowly nodded.

“Just how do we do that?” he asked. Dead silence followed his question. “Well?” he asked Cassy. “Don’t you have some sort of plan?”

“Umm… not exactly.” she murmured. “I was kind of hoping one of you could take care of that part.”

“How can we find her if we don’t know where she is?” Anshi asked. “You can’t just look at a map and say ‘Show me Dreya!’, can you?”

Tamox froze.  _ Show me Dreya… _ It was crazy, it was insane… but it just might work.

“You don’t need a map!” he said.

“What?” Anshi asked.

“You don’t need a map! You need a  _ Prolythe _ !”

Anshi stared at him as though he had gone insane. “You’re mad!” she cried. “We are not using a  _ Prolythe _ to get to Dreya!”

“It’s our only option!” Tamox shot back. “What if Kespa hurts her- what if she dies?”

“Dreya can handle herself, Tamox.”

“You told her- you told her to be careful! You can’t have wanted this to happen!”

“Dreya has entered into the  _ ktaria _ now. There’s nothing we can do.” Tamox glared at Anshi, furious with her. 

“You can’t quit now, Anshi!” he said. “Kespa- she’ll stop at nothing to win! She’ll do anything to get what she wants!”

“Therefore she’s dangerous around large groups. This way, she and Dreya can fight personally, without any fear of-”

“She’s your SISTER, Anshi!” Tamox shouted. “You ADOPTED her!” Anshi’s voice trailed off, her face going slightly pale. 

“I- I can’t interfere… it’s forbidden…”

“SHE CARES ABOUT YOU!” Tamox screamed. He’d never been so angry at anyone. “Anshi, you don’t know what it was like for her! She told me she had a sister when we first met, that’s how she sees you! And she clearly missed you, and when she thought you’d  _ died _ , it was like the world had shattered under her!” Anshi’s face softened, losing its anger. 

“Did she - oh, flames, how could I have - was it really that bad for her?”

“ _ Was it really that bad for her? _ ” Tamox scoffed. “Anshi, she practically  _ fainted. _ She curled up on the floor and cried her eyes out in front of all the Xarn in Sirold’s court!” A single tear quivered in Anshi’s eye. She said nothing as Tamox pinned her with his glare.

“Tamox, excuse me for not knowing,” Cassy broke in, “but what exactly is a  _ Prolythe _ ?”

“It’s a kind of magic mirror in a basin of water.” he explained, trying to contain his sudden fury. “The only difference is that you can talk to people that you see.”

“Don’t forget that they’re illegal.” Anshi said, wiping her eyes. “You can ‘fall’ through them, and then you’re trapped in wherever you were looking at.”

“Really?” Cassy asked. “That sounds exciting!”

“Trust me when I say it’s not fun  _ at all _ .” Anshi said.

“And how would you know?” Tamox asked.

“Mind your own business.”

“Fine, I will. It’s just that I think that a  _ Prolythe _ is the best way to save Dreya.”

“Tamox, you don’t understand.” Cassy said. “The  _ ktaria _ is a ritual combat between the leaders of both sides in a war. Whoever wins the fight wins the war for their side.” Tamox sighed. 

“You mean that we can’t do anything at all?” he asked.

“No.” Anshi said. “Our interference would corrupt the  _ ktaria _ and cause Kespa to win by default.” The three friends fell silent, not happy with the situation but unable to do anything about it. Tamox in particular seemed especially unhappy. 

“Wait…” he said.

“What?” Anshi and Cassy asked simultaneously.

“Well, this combat has to be consentual, right?”

“Of course.” Anshi said. “Forcing your opponent to do battle effectively ends the  _ ktaria _ before it begins. Everything has to be completely optional for both sides.”

“Exactly.” Tamox said. “Now, did either of you hear Dreya consent in any way?”

“She was thinking about it,” Cassy put in, “but she hadn’t decided anything yet.”

“And Kespa just appeared, declared a  _ ktaria _ , and grabbed Dreya!” Anshi said. “She’s violated the rules - we have to get to Dreya before something terrible happens!”

“Finally, we agree on something.” Tamox said; his eyes on Saela.  _ She’s still alive. _ She had worked her way close to the three of them, and had just taken out a Myrl with a slash of her knife. “Nice one.” he said, critiquing her even though she couldn’t hear him. “Only, duck a little lower next time - ” 

“WILL YOU SHUT UP AND STAY FOCUSED?” Anshi screamed.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Tamox said, turning back towards the others in their hurried council. “So, how do we get to the  _ Prolythe _ ?”

“Do you know where it is?” Anshi asked.

“Yes, I found it accidentally before the battle. Tamox said. “If we could get inside the palace, I could find it again.”

“Perfect!” Cassy cried. “You lead, and then I’ll stay on guard and watch through the  _ Prolythe _ in case anything happens.”

“What would you do if something did happen?” Tamox asked.

“I’d withdraw and find Melane or Sirold.” Cassy said.

“That’s good.” Anshi said. “So, we make our way across the battlefield, meet up at the rock over the entrance, and proceed to Tralnrt together. Now, I don’t know exactly how you ‘fall’ in - ”

“I can figure that out.” Cassy said. “It shouldn’t be too hard to manipulate, to be honest.”

“I don’t know if you should alter it, Cassy.” Tamox said. “Dreya looked in when I was there. She saw something that really messed with her mind.” Anshi frowned.

“Like what?” she asked.

“Like her mother.”

“ _ Mayara _ ?” Anshi asked. “How in the five heavens would she talk to  _ Mayara _ ?”

“I don’t know.” Tamox lied. “She looked in the  _ Prolythe _ because I saw something that looked like a person. She decided to chance it and look, and she went all rigid. After about ten minutes, I went to find Melane. Finally, Dreya pulled away from the _ Prolythe _ , and she was a wreck.”

“And  _ when _ exactly did this happen?”

“It was before you came back from that battle.”

Anshi sighed and sat up a little straighter, rolling her eyes. It was just like Dreya to have a breakdown and not say a word. 

“Tralnrt’s just inside that clearing.” she said, pointing westward. “If we make good time and don’t get hurt, we should be able to reach it in about ten minutes.”

“Okay!” Cassy said, unfurling her wings and preparing to shoot skyward. “Let’s go and get this over with!”

“Wait!” Tamox said, grabbing Cassy’s tail and pulling her back down to earth.

“Let go of me!” she cried.

“We need some sort of plan!” he argued. “We can’t just run off like mad people! We’ll be killed!”

“We’re wasting time!” Cassy said. “Dreya needs us now!”

“Cassy, he’s right.” Anshi put in. “We’re no help to anyone when we’re spitted on the end of a Myrl blade.” Cassy sighed and returned to the earth.

“Fine.” she muttered. “What sort of plan do the two of you have in mind?” Anshi looked over to Tamox.

“You’ve had the best ideas of anyone so far.” she said. “What do you think we should do?” Tamox looked out into the battlefield. Saela was still nearby, and she was holding her own with stunning grace.  _ No. Don’t think about her yet. Focus on Dreya. _ He thought of her alone, how Kespa had tricked her into this deadly duel. 

“We need to split up.” he said. “Each of us chooses a different route to get to the entrance, and we meet up by the rock. Whoever gets there first should wait about ten minutes, and after that should assume that the other members of our rescue party are wounded or deceased and proceed alone. If everyone reaches the rock in time, we enter Tralnrt together, then we get to Lhiar, negotiate with the sentries to let us in, and find the  _ Prolythe _ .”

“It sounds like a good plan.” Cassy said. 

“I can’t think of anything to add.” Anshi agreed. “Oh, wait. My mother’s in charge of Lhiar in Dreya’s absence.” She blushed as she spoke. “She probably won’t want me to rescue Dreya. She’ll think it’s too dangerous.”

“I can cloud her mind.” Cassy said. “She won’t know you’re even in the castle.” 

“You’re sure?” Anshi asked. “I mean, she just got me back. I don’t want her to worry.”

“I dodge Myrl that way.”

“Then I’m in.”

“Fine.” Tamox said. “I’ll strike out from the right. Cassy, you take the left. Anshi, move through the center. We meet at the entrance. Everyone got it?” Anshi and Cassy nodded. “Great.” Tamox said. “Let’s move out!”

The three of them burst from behind the boulder and headed in different directions. Cassy sailed left, her wings carrying her easily past the battle. A Myrl struck out at her with his sword, but she was too fast. One look into his eyes led her straight to his mutilated aura. The trademark vines of Kespa’s influence were wound into his core…but this time she knew how to sever them.  _ I can’t save you, _ she thought,  _ but I can end your misery. _ One well- placed mental “cut” severed the connection between the queen and her soldier. The Myrl turned to ash. Cassy bowed her head in a brief moment of silence and continued on her way.

Anshi was having considerably more trouble. It seemed that for every Myrl she spitted, slashed, or harmed in some way, ten more were there to replace the fallen soldier.  _ They may be horrible at fighting, _ she thought,  _ but their numbers are overwhelming. _ The few hundred meters to the forest and safety seemed an eternity away, and the Myrl were pressing ever closer.  _ I won’t let them win. _ Anshi thought.  _ They can’t stop me. Not anymore. _ She lashed out at the pressing mob, her broadsword cutting through two more opponents.

It wasn’t helping. The Myrl seemed to latch on to her, as if… as if Kespa had foreseen their efforts and planned accordingly.  _ She doesn’t know about the Prolythe… does she? _ Anshi fought harder, her sword flying left and right. Dreya needed her more than ever.

Tamox had chosen to head right for one specific reason, and her name was Saela. He wove his way between elves, Xarn, and Myrl to reach where she stood, felling Myrl after Myrl on his sword. She smiled briefly when she saw him, and then ducked to avoid a crude Myrl blade.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“Fine!” she answered, stabbing a Myrl in the eye.

“No issues? Any grief we need to talk out?” He engaged a Myrl in battle.

“My sympathy for them ended when they poisoned my friend.” She used the force of the blow against her to launch into a spin and decapitate the offending soldier.

“So it was poisoned, then? The arrow, I mean?”

“Of course it was poisoned! These are Myrl, after all!”

“Just don’t get overconfident.”

“I won’t. What about you?”

“I have to head for the forest!” Another Myrl fell victim to Tamox’s dirk.

“Why?” She stabbed her opponent in the chest.

“It’s part of my plan to rescue Dreya.”

“Rescue?”

“Kespa’s going to kill her if we don’t do something.”

“Is Anshi coming too?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Stay safe, alright?”

“I will. Love you!”

“Love you too!” 

Confident that nothing could possibly happen to him with Saela’s love on his side, Tamox plunged into the fray. The forest wasn’t that far now.

Cassy reached the entrance to Tralnrt first. It helped when you could blind the minds of your enemies and slip by them without revealing yourself, but Tamox and Anshi would have no such luck. She settled down to wait for them, hoping that nothing would happen to her friends.

Anshi had made it about twenty meters, but she was running out of strength. Normally, she and Dreya would have worked together, but now it took all her resolve just to stand.  _ If anyone’s out there, _ she thought,  _ please help me. _

“Need a hand?” Anshi turned to see the scarred soldier from before, carving his way easily through the ranks of the enemy.

“It’s always preferable.” she answered. “How are you doing?”

“I’m holding up.” he said, standing back-to-back with Anshi and impaling a Myrl on his sword. “You?”

“A little tired. Why?”

“Well, it’s… it’s just that you… you remind me of my daughter.”

Anshi turned her head, unable to stop fighting, and scrutinized the other man. He was tall, with powerful shoulders and a strong build. She didn’t know why, but he seemed familiar.

“Your daughter?” she asked lightly, trying to disguise her unease. “How so?”

“You resemble her strongly.”

“Did she have one arm?” Anshi asked, laughing slightly and slicing a Myrl in two.

“No.” the man said. “She’s dead.”

Anshi sighed and slid to one side, avoiding the edge of a scimitar. “I… I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” the man said. “Far away from home. Myrl on your right!”

Anshi spun around and moved her sword in an arc, using a move her father taught her. At the same time, the man turned to face her. Both of them embedded their blades in the Myrl, which moaned and promptly turned to sludge.

“Good job.” the soldier said, turning back to the battle.

“My father.” Anshi explained. “He made sure I could defend myself.” 

“He taught you well.”

“I never thanked him.” Anshi said. “I never got the chance.”

“Where is he?” the soldier asked.

“No idea.” she said. “I was gone for a long time- nearly died myself, actually- and when I got back my mother said he’d been demoted from captain of the Lhiar Guard to a foot soldier. I haven’t seen him since before I left.”

The soldier froze. “What was his name?”

“Aril. Aril Hitaro.” Anshi told him, sliding under a Myrl blade and kicking out to knock her opponent away from her. The scarred soldier moved to stand over her. He offered his hand.

“And yours?” he asked. 

“Anshi.” she said. “It’s unusual, I know.”

The man’s eyes softened. “I- get down!”

Anshi flung herself on the ground and covered her head. The soldier gave a cry and there was the sound of a struggle. She peered through her fingers to see him flat on the ground, a Myrl on top of him. It screamed suddenly, and then the soldier was fighting his way through a pool of sludge.

Anshi pushed herself to her feet and darted over to help.

“Here.” she said, taking his hand and pulling him up out of the grey ooze.

“It’s a new tactic.” he said. “They launch Myrl in catapults. When they land, it’s on top of the enemy.”

Anshi smiled. “Thank you.” she said. “You saved my life, and I don’t even know your name.”

The man smiled. “It’s Aril.” he said. “Aril Hitaro.”

Anshi’s eyes widened, and then she wrapped her arms around her father and fell into his embrace.

“I thought you were dead.” he whispered softly.

“You should have seen Mom.” Anshi said. “She was almost delirious.”

Aril released his daughter and grinned. “I don’t blame her.” he said. “You look so…”

“So what?”

“So grown up.” Aril said. He brushed a tear from Anshi’s eye. “Now, why are you here? How did you survive?”

“Move!” Anshi cried, shoving her father backward. A Myrl crashed to the ground between them and then promptly turned to sludge, its back broken in the fall.

“This isn’t the best place.” Anshi said. “I need to get back to Tralnrt. Dreya’s in trouble, and I’ve got to get to her.”

Aril nodded. “The  _ Prolythe _ , I presume?”

“How did you know-?”

“I was captain of the palace Guard, remember?” Aril said.

“You aren’t mad at me, are you?” Anshi asked. 

Aril sighed. “You’re breaking the law.”

“Yes.”

“For Dreya.”

“Yes.”

“Then you better get to Tralnrt, my girl.”

Anshi smiled and cleaved her way through the Myrl, heading towards the woods.

“I’ll see you after the storm!” she called. “I love you!”

Aril smiled widely and plunged into battle with renewed fervor.  _ Now, I have two people to protect. _

Tamox ducked under a Myrl blade. He was taller then them, but his agility was definitely better.  _ I can see why Kespa thought me the perfect weapon _ . he thought, whirling to counter a strike from behind.  _ My hearing, my nerves… it’s all calibrated for perfect battle performance.  _ He discovered that his reflexes were balanced on a hair trigger, and he could dodge the blows and slashes sent at him with surprising ease. This certainly helped his movement, and soon he was in the shadow of the wood. 

“Thank you for a wonderful afternoon.” he told the Myrl he was fighting. “I’m sorry to leave you, but there are pressing matters elsewhere.” One slash was all it took to erase the record of his departure, and he turned and dashed for the entrance.

Anshi and Cassy were waiting for him.

“How’s Saela?” Cassy asked, smiling. Tamox groaned.

“She’s fine.” he said. “Come on, let’s get going!”

Anshi pulled up the rock and slid inside. Cassy dropped like a stone through the hole, unfurling her wings like parachutes. Tamox was the last to enter, and he closed the opening over his head. No one spoke as they climbed, and Anshi led the way through the tunnels at a run.

“The sentries should let us pass.” she gasped. “After that, it should take about ten minutes to enter Lhiar and find the  _ Prolythe _ .”

“Right.” Tamox said. “I hope Dreya will last that long.”


	14. Regaining

“Halt!” It was the border guards.

“Move!” Anshi cried.

“Excuse me?” one of them asked.

“Dreya’s life is in danger!” she shouted.

“Still, this is no time to-”

“LET ME PASS!” Anshi screamed, drawing her broadsword. The guards said nothing and stepped aside.

“Thank you.” she said demurely. “Tamox? Cassy? Ready?”

Cassy nodded.

“Good.”

* * *

They slipped in through the front door. Treyn was talking absently to Valeria, but neither one looked up as the three allies entered.

“I blocked us out.” Cassy whispered. “But we should still be quiet. I can’t hide us from the whole palace.”

They crept up the stairs to the deserted residential section.

“Where is it?” Anshi whispered.

“I’m not sure.” Tamox answered. “It was near this tapestry. A battle between these gold shapes and dark shadows.”

“Like that?” Cassy asked. She pointed to a tapestry hanging on the wall. Tamox darted towards it, and he gave a cry of triumph.

“That’s it!”

“Shh!!” Anshi admonished, wincing as he shouted. “Quietly, Tamox. We aren’t supposed to be here, remember?”

“Sorry.” he whispered. Anshi shook her head and walked over to examine the tapestry.

“This is really unusual.” she murmured. “Tamox was right, it’s a battle.” She pointed to two figures above the others, one black and one gold. “See these two? I think they’re supposed to represent the leaders of each side.”

“So is this a symbolic war, or an actual one?”

“I don’t know, but I think that the figures represent actual people, and this battle was a real event.”

“Who are these supposed to be?” Cassy asked, pointing to three other gold figures, behind their leader and slightly smaller. 

“I don’t know.” Anshi said. “Look, this one’s got a rose stitched on one side of it.” 

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

Anshi drew back, her face grave. “It means that the person represented by that shape is dead.”

“Dead?” Tamox asked. “What do you mean, dead?”

“A rose is a symbol of mourning.” Anshi explained. “When someone’s died, friends or relatives each carry a rose until the memorial service. When the body is buried or lain in stone, one person leaves their rose with the corpse.” A sad smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “It’s supposed to be an honor.”

Cassy shivered. “Let’s not talk about death.” she said. “Not when Dreya… well, you know.” She ruffled her feathers and looked at Tamox. “Where’s this  _ Prolythe _ thing, anyway?”

“Behind the tapestry.” Tamox reached his hand in and parted the cloth to reveal the door. “Shall I go first?” he asked.

“Be my guest.” Anshi said.

Tamox smiled. “To Dreya.” he said, and opened the door.

* * *

The room was darker than Tamox remembered, with the same blackened torches, dust-covered bookcases, and ignored writing desk. Cassy immediately flew to the  _ Prolythe _ .

“Wow.” she whispered. “Tamox, this is serious magic.”

“You mean it’s old?”

“Not just that.” she said. “It’s powerful enough to completely drain my mind, if I let it. I could feel it calling me as soon as I entered the room.”

“Can you control it?” Anshi asked. “Or do we need help?”

Cassy shook her head. “It’s not hard.” she said. “I just need to be careful.”

“Have you figured out how people fall in?” Tamox inquired.

“I- I think so. It’s got something to do with the connection between the physical world and your mind. If you still have something holding you to this place- like if you were holding on to the edges of the basin- I think you won’t fall in. It’s when what you’re watching becomes real to you, and you let go of the place you’re standing in, that dangerous things happen.”

“If we fell through,” Anshi said, “could we come back?”

Cassy closed her eyes. “No.” she said. “It only works one way.”

“So to return, we need the Medallion?”

“It looks that way.”

Anshi stepped up to the basin. “I’m ready.” she said.

Cassy gestured to the pale water. “Go ahead and look.” she said. “Oh, and Tamox, you’ll want to be with her. My goal is to get you to fall in together.”

The two friends looked at each other, and then turned their eyes into the  _ Prolythe _ .

* * *

As soon as the green vortex faded, Dreya found herself standing in a field. It was inauspicious, with mossy earth instead of grass. Trees and bushes bordered it on all sides, and the sky overhead was grey.

“Welcome, Andreya.”

The voice startled Dreya, and she turned to see Kespa standing nearby.

“Where am I?” Dreya asked.

“Why, Andreya, I’m surprised at you.” Kespa said. “Haven’t you seen this place before?”

Dreya closed her eyes. Yes… something was familiar about this place.  _ Have I been here before? _ she thought.  _ No, I’d remember… _

And then the memory struck. 

_ “Dreya… our only hope…” _

This was where Mayara had died.

This was where her destiny had been decided.

This was where it all began.

Dreya sank to her knees.

“I see you  _ do _ remember.” Kespa said. “I won’t claim originality, but it  _ did _ seem like an ideal place to kill you.”

“No.” Dreya stood slowly, her shock gone. “I won’t go without a fight.” She raised her sword in the warrior’s salute.

“I suppose you think you can win.” Kespa said tiredly, drawing her own sword and repeating the gesture with a flick of her wrist. 

“You’ve left me no choice but to try.” Dreya answered. Kespa smiled. 

“You’re brave.” she said. “You could have been a powerful ally.”

“Maybe.” Dreya said. “I just don’t go in for tyranny.” 

She charged into battle without a second thought.

* * *

Anshi’s fingers tightened on the edge of the basin.  _ I’ve got to let go! _ she thought, but it was no use.  _ I have to… I must… let… go… _

Dreya was charging towards Kespa, her sword raised. 

_ She needs me!! _ Anshi thought.  _ Someone has to be her second if she dies…  _

Dreya passed beyond her view. Anshi leaned further into the  _ Prolythe _ . She could feel Tamox’s mind straining, trying to see what was happening.  _ If only there was a way to see her…  _

Cassy glanced at the inscription on the basin of the  _ Prolythe. _ * _ Anshi? _ * she called with her mind. * _ What does “Ni Perif Onen” mean? _ *

Anshi recoiled from the invasion on her mind. * _ Cassy? _ * she thought. * _ Is that you? _ *

* _ Yes. What does “Ni Perif Onen” mean? _ *

* _ It means “To See Beyond.” _ * Anshi answered, and then she gripped the edges of the  _ Prolythe _ as she was pulled inwards. She closed her eyes, and they were free of the visions.

“What was that?” Tamox asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I don’t know.” Anshi answered. “I translated something for Cassy, and then something started to pull us in, and I grabbed the edge and we didn’t fall.”

“You need to say it.” Cassy said.

“Say what?” Tamox asked.

“ _ Ni Perif Onen. _ ” Cassy said. “Say it, and you fall in.”

Anshi’s eyes glimmered. “Really?” She and Tamox returned to the  _ Prolythe. _

“Do you need up here?” Tamox asked Cassy. 

“I’m watching.” Cassy said. “I don’t need that to see.”

“Come on.” Anshi said. She and Tamox bent over the  _ Prolythe. _ “You ask it, and then I’ll tell it to let us in.”

“Show us Andreya.” Tamox said. “Andreya Orifax.” The waters swirled, and Dreya became visible.

“ _ Ef tae kerw ni perif onen. _ ” Anshi whispered. “We need to see beyond.”

There was a flash of light in the basin, and suddenly Anshi and Tamox were pulled forward into the swirling waters.

* * *

Kespa had been waiting, and the sword of the usurper clashed into Dreya’s like it had been forged for this very moment. The two queens whirled together in a perilous dance, the wind howling as they spun. Two swords clashed again and again, sparks flying with every blow. Dreya said nothing, her mouth set in a grim line.  _ I have to win _ . she thought desperately.  _ I have entered the ktaria. I have to win.  _ She fought with renewed ferocity, slashing out wildly at Kespa. Her sword never hit its mark. The elf simply  _ slid _ away from the blows, disappearing into thin air only to reappear behind Dreya’s back. It was like fighting a ghost.

“Stand!” she called. “Stand and fight, that I may duel you on the field of honor!” Kespa’s eyes narrowed, her customary smirk returned suddenly. 

“I’ve enjoyed our little game, Andreya.” she said, deflecting yet another attempt at a killing blow.

_ I have to win. I have to win. I have to win… _

“You’ve forgotten; however, what it means to fight against the Medallion.” As Kespa spoke, she slid backward, coming to a halt about two hundred meters from Dreya.

_ I have to win. I have to win. I have to win… _

“I’m sorry to inform you, milady, but this competition is over.”

The Medallion began to shimmer faintly, ribbons of energy flowing over its surface. Kespa’s eyes closed and she snapped out her hand, palm up. The Medallion shifted into her grasp, and it turned a deep violet. A  _ Lhaer _ flickered into life across Kespa’s brow. Dreya seemed spellbound by this display, and her sword arm slid down to her side.  _ I… have… to… win… _ she thought, but her thoughts were flying away from her. 

_ I… have… to… win… _

Kespa’s smirk widened into a grin. “Farewell, my distinguished opponent.” she announced. “It was a fight well fought.” 

With that, the energy flowing over the Medallion centralized and shot out at Dreya’s head in a lavender beam. Dreya watched unconcernedly as her death came ever closer and closer, for anything was better than fighting Kespa. Her enemy’s  _ Lhaer _ burned itself into her mind, the circular pattern swirling around in what was left of her brain. Only seconds remained before the violet blast would forever obliterate the Orifax line.  _ It’s over. _ Kespa thought gleefully.  _ It’s finally over… _

**“NO!”**

Without warning, a third party rushed into view. She darted across the field, her face dark with fury. Dreya’s head snapped around to look at her, and the spell was broken. Her sword arm sprung back up, the blade it clutched defending her face.

“The  _ Lhaer _ !” Anshi cried. “Dreya, remember your  _ Lhaer _ !”

_ Of course! _

Dreya didn’t think. She didn’t have time to. She sensed the power nearby, just as it had been in Kespa’s fortress. She knew that she could tap into it. Before she realized it, her  _ Lhaer _ had blazed to life upon her forehead. She held her sword out, the flat of the blade shielding her face. When Kespa’s blast struck the weapon, it rebounded back towards its origin. Dreya hoped that this might have been the end, but the beam simply dissipated back into the Medallion. Kespa frowned slightly, then grinned cruelly and shifted the focus of her anger to Anshi. Without protection, the newcomer was struck hard by a second violet blast. She was knocked back a few meters and fell to the ground. As Dreya ran to her friend, Kespa closed her eyes and rose into the air.

Dreya crouched next to Anshi.

“Anshi?” she whispered. “Are you alright?” Anshi, thankfully, was still alive.

“It was just a stun.” she murmured. “I’ll get to safety, you fight her.” Dreya turned and looked up, shocked. Kespa was standing hundreds of meters above the ground, balancing perfectly on top of a thick pillar of earth. 

“Follow me if you can, Andreya!” Kespa called, her voice echoing down to the ground.

“Oh, I’ll follow her.” Dreya growled. “I have a family to avenge.”

Anshi stood shakily. “I’ll be your second.” she said. “Tamox is here somewhere too.”

Dreya felt a sudden flow of warmth to her heart. Somehow, the darkness seemed less black now that she knew she wasn’t here alone. 

“Thank you.” she said. “Now, get somewhere out of sight.” As Anshi ran to the trees bordering the clearing, Dreya closed her eyes and searched within herself for the power she knew was there.  _ Come on, _ she thought forcefully,  _ come out. I need you. _

Nothing happened.

Dreya could feel Kespa laughing at her, she knew that this was precisely what her opponent had planned on.  _ I can’t control it. _ she realized.  _ I can’t control it!! _ Fear laced into her mind, slowing her up. She knew that Anshi and Tamox were nearby, that they were depending on her.  _ I can’t let them die… _ Dreya thought.  _ I’m responsible for them… _ Urgency was creeping back, erasing the fear.  _ I can’t let them die… they’re my  _ **_family_ ** _ … _

Dreya didn’t realize it, but her  _ Lhaer _ had returned.

She couldn’t feel it yet, but she was rising into the air.

She wasn’t aware of it, but she had created a pillar of earth identical to Kespa’s own. When it reached the usurper, it merged with her pedestal, forming an arena about ten feet across.

“Come on, Kespa.” Dreya said, and it was her turn to grin. “Let’s finish it, shall we?”

* * *

Kespa easily blocked each slash sent at her by Dreya’s longsword, but her skill wasn’t enough to inspire any sort of confidence in victory. Andreya was, after all, extremely good. Just like her mother.

“You know,” she said smoothly to her opponent, “you are really exactly like Mayara.” Dreya had dropped to the ground to dodge a swipe at her head, and she raised her sword to block a killing blow. 

“You wouldn’t know.” Dreya growled. “You killed her before I could truly be her child.” 

Kespa smiled cruelly. 

“I suppose I did at that.”

Dreya’s eyes narrowed, and she burned into the usurper before her with a glare that could have killed any lesser being from sheer terror. 

“You murderer.” she growled angrily, still crouched on the ground. “You MURDERER!” 

Then, oblivious to almost everything but her blazing anger, Dreya leapt up, eager to get her revenge.

She charged at her opponent, sword raised.  _ Perhaps _ , she thought,  _ the element of surprise can end it all _ . 

It was a valiant effort, of course, but it ended badly. A quick twist of Kespa’s waiting sword was all that had been needed. Andreya Orifax was now impaled on the killer’s bloodstained blade.

Kespa shook her sword free of the pathetic child, her fear gone. Her customary smirk returned, and she smiled again at the shocked and dying girl before her. 

“Goodbye.” she said with a smile. “Say hello to Mayara for me.”

Dreya staggered back, her face paling; and then she pitched downward off the pillar, her hair flying about her head.

“DREYA!” Tamox screamed, darting from his refuge in the bushes and catching her in his outstretched arms. Her momentum sent him to his knees; driving him into the soft ground-but he had caught her. He let her slide out of his arms and frantically bent over her face. “Please, Dreya! Wake up!” he cried, feeling for her pulse as her teal eyes rolled back and finally slid shut. Blood bloomed from the wound on her chest like some grotesque flower. 

“No…” Tamox moaned, chafing Dreya’s limp wrists and holding her head in his lap. “No no NO!!!”

Anshi watched the drama before her from the safety of the trees, her mind overwhelmed with horror. To think that Kespa would murder an innocent girl…it was like seeing Mayara disappear again. She remembered how she’d laughed, filled with cruel ecstasy at the demise of her greatest opponent. She knew that Kespa wasn’t shy about regular murder, but this… this was different.  _ I told her… I told her not to go! _ The monstrosity of the crime shredded her heart then, and her despair cleared her mind and revealed exactly what she needed to do.  _ If I can’t help her, I will at least ensure that Andreya Orifax does not die in vain. _ Anshi ran from her shelter, sword raised, fueled by her rage and pain.  _ Kespa will PAY for this atrocity. _

Kespa looked down from her pillar of earth at the speck beneath her. It was Anshi Hitaro, of course. Anshi had come once more to save poor Andreya. Foolish girl. 

“I’ll kill you quickly.” Kespa told her matter-of-factly. “I admire your loyalty, Hitaro.” It was only a quick thought to the Medallion, a message to stop the heart of that warrior down below. She felt the Medallion obeying her, sending a fragment of its power at the frail one-armed girl in the form of an icy dart. It should have worked almost instantly, but then something happened. In that moment, everything changed for Kespa, and the future was sealed with that changing. The power kept flowing out, but Anshi didn’t fall. She wasn’t dying. The Medallion wasn’t working.

Anshi didn’t really recognize the power flowing into her. She didn’t grasp the fact that all the energy Kespa poured out against her was being absorbed into her soul. All she knew was that suddenly she could run faster, jump higher, and fight even more madly. Anshi rushed at Kespa’s pillar of earth. Closing her eyes desperately, she jumped into the air and flew upwards at the evil monarch.

Despite their distance from him, Tamox saw everything that happened between Anshi and Kespa with unreal clarity, as if time had suddenly slowed to embellish the importance of the next few moments. Kespa shot another blast of ice at Anshi, but she only absorbed it and gained speed. A  _ Lhaer _ blazed into life on her brow, etched like molten silver into her skin. Rushing upwards, she seemed to slow down as she reached the top of the pillar, about half a meter above Kespa’s head. Flipping over in a near-perfect circle, Anshi narrowly dodged a bolt of red fire that Kespa sent at her skull. She stretched out her hand and let her eyes close again. A shimmering wave of energy left her fingertips and the Medallion flew from Kespa’s grasp. Anshi closed her palm around it, and then everything returned to normal speed.

The Medallion somehow slid up her arm to rest around her neck, its chain binding itself to her. As it locked into her mind, Anshi opened her eyes that now gleamed gold. She smiled innocently at Kespa, and the Medallion began to shine. Red and violet lights danced on its surface, but they soon were dissolved in a globe of golden light that covered the thin disk of metal. Her smile still burning into Kespa, Anshi let her arms fall limply to her sides.

Dark fog oozed from the Medallion, forming a shadowlike sphere around Anshi’s globe of gold radiance. The light looked doomed for a moment, but somehow the frail girl floating inside won out. The shadows vanished. The gleaming light grew steadily, and then it suddenly shrunk back into the Medallion, only to explode in all directions with a deafening  _ crack _ . Kespa’s eyes widened madly as she tried vainly to escape, but the cleansing sphere caught her. Tamox turned his head suddenly, unable to watch her die. The screams were enough.

When the dark queen was no more, the light shrank steadily backwards until it vanished back in to the plate of metal Anshi wore about her neck. She returned to earth then, the fire in her soul abated. Her eyes faded back to their original grey. 

_ It’s over…at last. _

The  _ Lhaer _ on Anshi’s head shimmered for a moment, and then it slowly disappeared. Just as suddenly as it had come, the power was gone…and then her legs gave out and she hit the mossy earth hard. Her breath came in close, shallow gasps. The Medallion was back in her hand, its chain wound about her wrist.

“I did it.” she whispered, and then the thought of Dreya pierced her heart like an icy spear.

Anshi turned to see her friend lying motionless on the ground. Blood stained Dreya’s emerald dress like a burgundy blossom, and her head lay cradled in Tamox’s lap. “She’s still alive.” he said, his voice laden with sorrow.

“Dreya?” Anshi called, crawling over to her fallen comrade. “DREYA?” She picked up her limp friend, holding Dreya gently and crying softly.  _ This can’t be happening… _

“No!” she choked. “Please! Don’t die!” There was no response from the cold, still body in her arms.  _ If I was given the choice, _ she thought despairingly,  _ I would give up my life. _ That though manifested in her mind, spreading to all corners of her consciousness. 

_ If there is anything that I can do to save her, let it be done now. _

Tamox watched what happened next through tearstained eyes, almost not believing what he saw. The Medallion was glowing again, clenched in the hand Anshi had placed on Dreya’s lower back. This time, however; the pale radiance was white. It took Tamox some time to realize what was happening as Dreya’s many wounds healed and Anshi’s grip slipped a little. Suddenly, though, Dreya gasped and sat up. She stared in horror at her friend, whose face had gone to a shade of pale grey. 

“What have you done?” Dreya cried, tears streaming down her face as she saw the gaping wound in Anshi’s torso. “Anshi, why did you do this thing?” Her friend gave a ghostly smile. 

“We all have our moment to choose.” she whispered faintly as blood flowed from the newly made wound onto her shirt. “This was my choice.”

“No!” Dreya moaned. “You don’t mean that.” It was finally dawning on her exactly what had taken place. “You can’t leave!” Anshi’s smile faded as she moved her hand to Dreya’s arm. 

“You will always be my sister, Andreya…” she breathed softly, and then her eyes closed and she slumped forward into Dreya’s arms, never to stir again.

Tamox looked from Dreya to Anshi, and then back to Dreya. “Isn’t there something you could - ”

“There’s nothing I can do.” the queen said mutely. “She’s gone, Tamox. Anshi Hitaro is dead.” Dreya looked again at her sister, and then she bowed her head and began to weep.

Tamox felt absolutely cold. He had never seen someone die before…not like this. Anshi may not have been close to him, but he still grieved for her. It was Dreya, though, that pained him the most. She was still crying. Her face was pale and lined with an eternity of cares that were certain to haunt her forever. She sat in silence for a time, and then she tenderly lifted the body of her fallen sister. Standing once more, Dreya turned to face Tamox. 

“Come on.” she said, the  _ Lhaer _ on her forehead flickering into existence. “I’m taking us home.”

* * *

Melane could feel it when Dreya won. A rippling, warm sensation of joy flooded her whole body, insinuating into her soul and erasing all the fear and worry. She watched the Myrl around her fall, dissipating into sludge that solidified almost before it hit the ground, and euphoria ensconced her instantly. She fell to her knees, overflowing with ecstasy and unable to contain her pride in Dreya. 

“I knew you could do it.” she said dreamily. “I knew you could.”

Saela had felt victory as well, and she was surrounded on all sides by celebration. The elves had seemed to know instantly that victory was theirs, and soon joy had ensconced the battlefield. Even those whose family had been among the dead could not help but cheer. Cheers in both Common and Ilvir echoed in her mind, and a huge smile bubble up from somewhere in her soul to spread across her face.  _ I can’t believe it. We actually WON!!! _

Suddenly, a portal opened onto the scene. Melane wasn’t alarmed- it was emerald for Orifax. Dreya was just coming home. She stood slowly, watching as Tamox exited. 

“Tamox!” she said, smiling and running over to him. As she saw his face, her joy dissolved. Tamox was crying, trying in vain to control the tears that carved wet paths down his face. He was able to nod to Melane, but he was still choking on sobs. Saela ran to him, her face full of joy and newly-come fear, and they embraced. Melane kept watching, a leaden weight on her chest. Dreya hadn’t come back.

“Tamox!” Melane cried, rushing to him. “You have to tell me- what happened?” Tamox gasped for breath in between sobs and shook his head. 

“I-I ca-can’t talk n-now…” he stammered shakily. “S-she tried…” Melane went cold as Saela tried to comfort her weeping companion. 

“Tamox, please tell me!” she implored. He didn’t even look at her. 

“Maybe you could ask later.” Saela said. “He’s too upset to talk now.” 

“I HAVE TO KNOW!” Melane screamed, angry and terrified and heartbroken all at once. “I HAVE TO KNOW HOW SHE DIED!” Saela looked back towards the portal. 

“Maybe Anshi can tell us.” she answered.

A figure began to come into view from within the portal. It was a girl-it had to be a girl. She was too far away for Melane to identify, but she was carrying a long and flexible  _ something _ in her arms-oh, flames. It was a body. Melane’s heart seemed to freeze as she tried to fit together what must have happened in her mind-Dreya had died defeating Kespa. Dreya had really died. 

Wait. The person carrying the body was tall, lean with ebony hair and wearing an emerald traveling dress. That meant… _oh,_ _thank the Fates._ _She’s alive._ Relief flooded the worried librarian. “Dreya!” she called. 

Dreya stepped into the light, blinking at the brightness. At that single image, Melane’s heart snapped in two. It was easy, all too easy, to see the agony that had taken hold in Dreya’s soul. She was weeping more than Melane had ever seen her weep before, shaking with each gasp for air. Melane watched, and then she saw. Dreya was carrying Anshi, who lay still, motionless and covered in blood.

Melane ran to her charge, each step seeming to cut into her soul. Anshi’s eyes were closed, her face peaceful as if in sleep. The gaping hole in her chest, however, made it clear that her lethargy was all too permanent. Before Melane had the chance to examine the body further, two of the healers had swept the girl away on a stretcher. Dreya sank onto a rock, her eyes vacant and withdrawn. 

“Is Treyn here?” she asked mutely. Melane shook her head.

“She stayed home.” Her words echoed off her lips, seeming strangely harsh in the dead silence. The librarian knelt by Dreya and put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Dreya,” she said carefully, “what happened back there?” Dreya, still not looking at her guardian, drew her sword and began to wipe it on her skirt. It was a methodical, calculated gesture.

“She gave up her life for me.” 

Melane’s eyebrows rose questioningly. “What?” 

Dreya turned her face to the librarian, and Melane saw that her teal eyes were absolutely empty. No life flashed in their depths, and if there was anything left it was buried by sorrow. 

“I was dying, and she used the Medallion.” Dreya cried, tears spilling out once more. “She defeated Kespa, and I was dying, and then  _ she exchanged her life for mine! _ ” Melane’s gold eyes flew open in shock and sympathy. 

“Dreya…I…I can’t…oh, Dreya. I’m so sorry. Truly I am.”

“We’ll give her the funeral of a queen.” Dreya sobbed, and Melane wrapped her in a hug. “It’s the least she deserves, Mel. The funeral of a queen.”

* * *

Aril Hitaro sat alone, carefully whetting his hunting-knife. It had been a fairly normal battle, save for the dragon serpents. _Dreya was marvelous, though. I’m glad she found her victory._ _I’ll have to congratulate her._

“Aril?”

The elf turned. “Dreya! Congratulations! I-”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Aril stood and offered his seat, but Dreya declined. “What is it?”

“It’s Anshi.” The queen’s eyes were red-rimmed and full of unshed tears. Aril frowned.

“What about her?”

Dreya closed her eyes and let a few tears slip out. “She’s dead.”

Aril was dumbfounded. “Dead? Anshi? My Anshi? Dead?”

“She sacrificed her life to let me live.”

The elf sank into his seat and put his head in his hands. “You- you’re sure. You’re sure she’s dead.”

“She was in my arms, Aril.”

Aril turned back to Dreya. He stood soundlessly, and then fell into her arms and wept.

* * *

“Here.” Melane said, offering Dreya a rose. She took it dumbly, her eyes never leaving Anshi’s corpse. It had been laid out in a tent while the wounded were cared for.

“Why, Mel?” she asked. “Why do people do these things?”

“Are you asking for yourself or for Anshi?”

“Anshi. She didn’t need to do what she did.”

“And what exactly did she do?” Aril asked. He was sitting opposite Dreya, holding Anshi’s hand. “How did she die?”

Dreya relayed the tale to him; beginning with Kespa’s kidnapping and ending with her portal back to the battlefield. Aril’s eyes grew steadily dimmer as the story wound on, and when Dreya told him how Anshi had selflessly taken her place, he stiffened as if he had been struck.

“She… she did this?” he asked, clearly not believing what he heard. “My Anshi… my little girl?”

“She died a hero.” Melane told him, offering him a rose.

“A hero.” Aril tonelessly repeated, taking the flower. “My daughter, the hero. My daughter, the brave one. How proud we are of her.”

* * *

Saela had lost no time seeing to the wounds of her fellow Xarn. “I may be a soldier at need,” she told Tamox, “but I’m a healer first and foremost.”

Tamox was silent.

“Come on.” Saela said. “I know she was your friend, but casualties are part of war. It’s another reason why I opposed this battle from the start.”

Tamox, for once, had nothing to say. He was thinking about the council before the war, how the Xarn had been against war and how Anshi’s letter had persuaded Sirold to support Dreya.  _ If we’d have listened to the Xarn, she’d still be alive… _

“Tamox?” Saela asked. “Are you listening?”

He didn’t answer.

“Look at me, at least!” she cried. “You’re not the only one with an injured friend!” Her eyes flicked to Kieral, who was pale and motionless on her stretcher.

Tamox sighed. “Her knife.” he said.

“What?”

“You’re wearing her knife.”

“Oh.” Saela slipped the sheathed blade from her belt and gave it to Tamox. “Did she fight well with it?”

“Well enough.” Tamox said, and a hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “She saved our lives with it.”

“Tell me about her.” Saela said, coming to sit next to Tamox on an unoccupied cot at the edge of the healers’ tent.

Tamox sighed and sat back. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.” Saela replied. “As much as you remember about her.”

“Well, to explain that, I’ll have to start when I was last at your Hall, two years ago…”

* * *

The army had formed up according to rank, and they were preparing to make their victory march back to Tralnrt. Dreya was wearing the Medallion about her neck, only recently finding the strength of will to take it from Anshi’s body. She clutched her memorial rose in her hand and screwed her eyes shut.  _ Don’t think about her. Light the victory torches, and don’t think about her. _ Her hand shook as Sirold gave her the brand that would light the victory torches.

“Do you need me to do it?” he whispered. She shook her head.

“I-I’m fine. Thank you.” she answered.

“It’s not easy losing a family member.”

“We all have losses to deal with.” Sirold glanced back to the healers, 

Melane looked on, standing in Anshi’s place. “Shall I give the order, Dreya?”

“No, Melane, I can do it myself.” Dreya turned to face the combined armies. “All forces,” she cried, “move out!”

* * *

Treyn stood alone on Lhiar’s balcony, watching over Tralnrt just as countless Orifaxes had done before. In this brief moment, it was  _ her _ city,  _ her _ people. Dreya had appointed her guardian, and she took her job seriously.

A light flickered into existence suddenly. It was a tiny light, a single torch just outside Tralnrt’s limits. Treyn smiled. They had returned.

“Valeria!” she cried.

“What?”

“They’re back!”

“How do you know?”

“I saw the torch!”

“The torch?” Valeria stuck her head out of her window. “Then they’ve won!”

The two women wasted no time in rushing down the stairs, spreading the news to all those left in the palace. Soon a crowd of joyful elves had crowded into the main hall.

With a smile, Treyn flung open the doors and ran out into the darkened streets. Tralnrt was utterly empty, but it felt so  _ alive _ at that moment. 

“Dreya!” she cried, waving into the distance. “Anshi! Welcome home!”

Only silence answered her. She frowned into the darkness, trying to see if the light had been an illusion. It hadn’t. 

“What is going on?” she murmured.

“Treyn?” It was Valeria.

“Yes?”

“For some reason, Cassy’s inside.”

“What’s she doing here? Didn’t she go off to battle?”

“I thought so, but apparently not. Anyway, she’s upset about something.” Valeria pushed open the door, holding a sobbing Cassy in her other arm.

“Cassy?” Treyn asked. “What is it?” The Quirlwing was shaking.

“I- it was so- she didn’t have to- not at all- would have been fine- WHY DID SHE DO IT?”

“Calm down!” Treyn cried, taking the Quirlwing from Valeria. “What’s wrong?”

The Quirlwing shut her eyes tightly. “I- I don’t want to- to t-talk about it.”

“You can tell me.” Treyn insisted. “I’m a safe person to talk to.”

“Th-then t-tell me w-why someone w-would d-do s-something like t-that!”

“Like what?” Treyn asked. “Do something like what?”

“Like s-she did! Y-you s-should know w-why, you kn-knew her.”

“Who? Who did I know?” 

Treyn was interrupted by an immense cheer. She turned to see Dreya, wearing the Medallion about her neck and smiling. She and Sirold were with their victorious armies at the end of the road, returning from a successful battle. Treyn smiled and stood up straight.  _ I’ll show her I’ve kept her home safe. _ Cassy continued to sob, no longer making any attempt to talk. Treyn focused on the army.  _ Anshi and Aril will be home soon, and there won’t be any more war… what a life we shall have!! _

There were plenty of smiling faces in the crowd of soldiers, but Treyn couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. She looked at Dreya, her eyes bright with joy, and she saw the single blood-red rose clutched in the girl’s hand. A rose- the symbol of mourning. Someone close to Dreya had died. And Anshi was nowhere in sight.

“By the fire…” Treyn muttered. “Anshi, what have you done?” 

Cassy just barely managed to escape from the woman’s arms as she fell to the street in a dead faint.

* * *

Aril broke from the ranks and ran to his fallen wife. “Treyn!” he called.

“Sh-she’s fine.” Cassy mumbled, hovering in the air. “I think she’s fainted.” The Quirlwing herself was trembling.

“Are you all right?” Aril asked her.

“I- I’m fine.” Cassy told him. “I just need to talk with Dreya.” Aril nodded and lifted Treyn into his arms as Cassy flew to Dreya.

“What are you doing here?” the queen asked, dismissing her soldiers with a wave of her hand.

“It was Tamox’s idea.” Cassy said. “When Kespa grabbed you, he suggested retrieving you with the  _ Prolythe _ .”

“It was a good plan.” Dreya admitted, nodding to Tamox. “I- I just wish she hadn’t…” Her voice trailed off, unable to finish her thought. 

“I know.” Cassy said. “But at least she died on her own terms.”

“But why did she choose to die at all?” Grief came trickling back into Dreya’s voice. “Why did she do what she did?”

“She saw you were in trouble. You were her sister. She acted out of love.”

“Love?” the queen cried, sinking to her knees. “Love is a fickle thing if it robs you of your family.”

“Love is the only thing worth living for.”

“When you love someone, they have power over you.” Dreya shot back. “They can give you supreme joy… or they can break your heart.”

“And simply because your heart is broken, you will hide away and never see light again?”

“I will protect myself!” Dreya said. “I can trust no one anymore… I don’t know if they’ll fail me!”

“Did Anshi fail you?” Cassy asked. “Do you consider her sacrifice a failure? It brought you your victory!”

“It should have been hers!” Dreya moaned. “I didn’t need to live. She should have let me die!”

“And then you would be gone!”

“And then I would not have her blood on my hands! I would not be responsible for what happened to her!”

“But she would be haunted forever!” Cassy shouted. “Your death would have killed her!” Dreya fell silent. Her gaze dropped to the rose in her lap.

“It would be better…”

“For who, Dreya? You or Anshi? At least now she knows she has done all she can to help you!”

“And now I am alone.” Dreya muttered. She clutched the rose to the Medallion at her chest and wept. “Totally, utterly alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I wrote this after I'd read the Silm but before I was really in the Silm fandom. That being said, I feel like my hyperfixation on this ending as the absolute perfect one to a love story is uh. Telling, to say the least.


	15. Tribute to the Fallen

Dreya rose early the next morning, barely noticing the clothing strewn across the floor.  _ How long have I been asleep? Maybe that whole thing was a dream… _ Her eyes fell on the wilting rose next to her pillow, and full memory flooded back.  _ I don’t think I walked up here alone… Mel must have helped me. _

She glanced at herself in the looking-glass on her wall, running her fingers through her tousled hair and trying to wake up. Her red-rimmed eyes darted to her pile of clothes as her mind ran through the list of various dresses available for her use, and then she sighed and sunk back onto her bed.

She hadn’t had need for a mourning gown in years, and the one she’d possessed was now too small and had been recycled as a lot of kitchen rags. It had seemed a good move at the time, but now she wished she’d kept it.  _ At least I’d have something to wear. _

It suddenly occurred to her that Melane might own a mourning gown that was her size- or Aora, even.  _ I’ve never seen Aora in any other color but black. _ She moved for the door, not bothering about a robe or slippers.

Something thudded against her chest as she walked. Dreya froze. She reached up-  _ oh. The Medallion. _ She’d almost forgotten it in the events of the day before. Her left hand clenched around it, and she found herself thinking of Anshi.  _ She gave up so much… and I gave up so little. _

* * *

“Mel? Melane?”

The knock on the door wasn’t unexpected- Melane herself hadn’t slept at all the previous night. She looked up from her book, already knowing who stood outside.

“Come in, Dreya.”

The door cracked open and Dreya slipped in, her eyes red from crying. Melane found her gaze drawn to the huge Medallion on its chain, now hanging long and loose.

“Tea?” the librarian asked, extending a spare mug she’d prepared for this moment. “It’s spearmint.”

Dreya nodded and took the steaming cup. “Thanks.”

“What can I do for you?” Melane inquired.

“It- it’s about a mourning gown.” Dreya said. “I- the last one I had was for my parents’ ceremony.”

“Do you need a new one?” Melane asked, rising and returning her book to its shelf.

“I was hoping you had one I could borrow.”

Melane closed her eyes, mentally taking inventory on her wardrobe. 

“I think there might be something you could try on.” she said, crossing to her closet.

“Ah, here.” Melane exclaimed, pulling out a long black gown and holding it up to the light. “I had this made when I was about your age… never had the heart to throw it away.”

Dreya took the garment and eyed it dubiously. “It’s not really my style.” she commented. Melane smiled faintly.

“Wasn’t mine either. Like I said, I don’t know why it’s still around.”

“I was thinking of asking Aora.” Dreya put in, sliding into the bathroom to change.

“Really?” Melane asked, her eyebrows raised. “Why her?”

“Well, I hardly ever see her in anything but black.” Dreya commented from behind the door. “And at least her clothing would be practical.”

“Practical,” Melane agreed, “but not entirely suited for the moment.”

“How’s she doing, by the way?” Dreya asked, sticking her head out the door. 

“I haven’t spoken to her since yesterday. Does the gown fit?”

Dreya nodded and exited. The gown was jet black, with silver brocade framing the neckline and a decorative belt of the same color tied loosely about her waist.

“I like it.” Melane said. “I feel bad saying this, but that could pass for a court dress on any other day.”

Dreya sighed. “I know.” She moved out of the room, her nightshift on one arm.

“Where are you going?” Melane asked. 

Dreya didn’t look back. “To do something important.”

* * *

The room was silent, the previous rulers of Tralnrt not rising from their tombs to comfort the latest in their line. Dreya herself didn’t speak, her face stoic as she turned to the wall next to Lumine.

She closed her eyes and focused on the image of the blank wall. In her mind, she stretched it, pulling it out in a seamless mound. The rock of the cave obeyed her command, influenced by the Medallion. With a twitch of her hand, Dreya hollowed the protrusion and carved away a flat lid. She pulled it away, leaving the cavity open.

Her eyes opened, and she surveyed her work. It was a basic tomb, with no cushions or velvet blanket for the final sleep, and it was just as well.  _ Anshi never would have wanted me to waste good bedding on her corpse. _

Dreya turned to leave, and then paused to add one final touch. She blinked, and letters swirled into being, engraved on the stone. They were in the elven script, but she could easily read them:

ANSHI HITARO

a friend to the queen

* * *

Keplan groaned. “Won’t you come to  _ bed _ ?” he asked, his bleary eyes focused on his daughter.

“Now?” Saela called breathlessly, pausing midspin to answer her father. “But it’s just getting good!”

“Some of us need our sleep!” he protested. 

“You can sleep on the floor.” Tamox told him, his rapier flashing to deflect Saela’s attack. “We won’t hit you.”

“Of course you won’t.” Keplan grumbled.

“Go to bed if you’re so tired!” Saela cried. 

“I’m not leaving you alone with him!” Keplan shot back. He grumbled mentally. Unable to sleep, his daughter and her newfound lover Tamox had decided to spar and get rid of their pent-up energy. They had started with knives, but Tamox had pulled out his rapier and Saela, not one to be outdone, ran to the castle armory and borrowed a broadsword. The fight had been going on for hours, with neither one willing to yield.

“Honestly, father, you’d think I’m some immature child!” Saela cried. “I’ve been alone with him before, and nothing’s happened!”

Keplan shook his head resolutely. “That was different. That was before I knew.”

“Speaking of knowledge,” Tamox interrupted, “I was under the impression you didn’t know how to fight, Saela.” 

“I don’t.”

“Well, then how are you beating me with a broadsword?”

“Improvisation. And I’m beating you? That’s interesting.”

Tamox gasped for breath and launched himself at his opponent. “I said beating, not beaten.”

“Then this should be fun.”

* * *

Aora sat alone at her workbench, staring at her open locket. Three faces stared back at her, products of her now-deceased sister’s artistic talents. From one side, her two parents smiled broadly, their faces full of life. 

And from the other, the face of her twin sibling, Cesla Kahn. 

_ Kespa. _

Aora slammed her free hand into the table.  _ It’s not FAIR! Normal people have families that survive, and what do I get? Two dead parents, and a crazy sister who murdered them. _ She closed her eyes, the red haze in her mind not offering her any help. She wasn’t blessed with the gift of telepathy like Cesla, but she liked to think she’d felt her sister’s death.  _ It was like a blow that nearly knocked me over… what else could it have been? _ The pain had been a solace to her, for Aora was certain that somewhere in the pain, remorse was buried.  _ Maybe not a lot. Maybe she didn’t realize it. But it was remorse… _

_ …it  _ had _ to be. _

* * *

Neither Treyn nor Aril had stopped crying that night.

They sat together, on Anshi’s bed, their arms wrapped around each other. Treyn’s body heaved with every breath she took, and she trembled with tearless sobs. Aril’s eyes were closed, his face soaked with his own bitter tears. 

Anshi lay on their own bed, her eyes closed. She was still clad in her battle garb, the ugly red stain across her chest a painful reminder of just how dead she was.  _ It was lucky we didn’t have to carry her back here ourselves. _ Treyn thought wildly, almost laughing out of sheer hysteria.  _ We never would have made it. _ She closed her eyes tightly, trying to lock out the frightening thoughts that came pouring into her head.  _ I could try… try and forget… forget all this pain… _

“Treyn!” It was Aril. He shook her shoulder. “The watchman’s just called dawn. We should get up.” Treyn nodded slightly, freeing herself of her husband’s embrace and sitting upright. 

“If you could make some tea,” she said, “I’ll start working on her.” Aril nodded and lumbered slowly out the door. Treyn stood, brushing her hair over her shoulder, and began the heartbreaking process of preparing her daughter for burial.

* * *

Dreya had made it inside Lhiar before the dawn call. When it came, she headed straight for the kitchens, unwilling to sit by while her breakfast was made. 

“Dreya! Good morning!” It was Idrial. “Want to help?”

Dreya nodded. “Should I start in on the omelettes?”

Idrial shrugged. “If you want to.”

Dreya grabbed a mixing bowl off a nearby shelf. “Eggs?” she asked.

The chef handed her the basket. “I heard about Anshi.” she said.

“Mmm.” Dreya said, cracking two eggs and tossing their contents into the bowl.

“And I’m sorry.”

Dreya sighed. “Idrial,” she began, “when I want to talk, I’ll talk- and when I want to cook, I’ll cook.”

“I see.” the chef said. “Ready for the mushrooms?” The fungus lay on a sideboard, ready to be chopped and tossed into the mix.

“I’ll get them.” Dreya answered, looking over at the knives. They flew up and began work on the mushrooms, dicing them into tiny squares which then flew through the air and landed with a  _ plop _ in Dreya’s mixing bowl.

“Have you always been able to do that?” Idrial asked, her eyes bugging slightly.

Dreya shook her head. “Medallion.” She dumped the contents of the mixing bowl into a pan and held it over the stove. A fire kindled up under it automatically.

“Oh.” Idrial said, nodding slightly. “Shall I prepare you some flatbread? Perhaps with sugar?”

The queen paused momentarily, a finger to her lips. “Yes.” she finally said, returning the nod. “Flatbread would be lovely.”

The cook smiled, the first real smile of the day. “I’ll get right on it.”

* * *

“Tamox! Saela! Breakfast!”

Dreya leaned into the empty practice room and couldn’t help but grin. Tamox and Saela were once again locked in combat, though this time both were armed with flails and rapiers rather than knives.

“Breakfast?” Saela asked, halting immediately. “That’s wonderful. I’m starving!”

Tamox lowered his flail. “Nice dress.” he observed, sides heaving. “It fits you well.”

Saela hit him, hard. He jumped back.

“What was that for?”

“You are such a pig!”

“I am not!” he shot back. “I was complimenting my friend.”

“Complimenting her? Why don’t you ever compliment  _ me _ ? I’m just as pretty as she is!” Saela grabbed her flail and swung it at Tamox. Dreya laughed; a small outburst, but there just the same.

“By the  _ stars _ .” groaned Keplan from his seat against the wall. “Doesn’t anyone  _ sleep _ in this city?”

Dreya’s smile faded. “It will be a long time before I am able to sleep, Keplan.” she said. “Tamox, we’re dining where we were before.”

“That room next to yours? What are we eating?”

“Yes, that’s the one, and you’ll find out. Take Saela there; I need to find a bed for this one.” She walked over to where Keplan sat, put one arm around him, and pulled him to his feet.

“Don’t you dare take me…” he muttered, his voice thick with fatigue. “You… watch out… for him…”

Dreya nodded. “Of course, sir. But in the meantime, you need your rest.”

She half-guided, half-dragged the exhausted dignitary out the door, shooting an apologetic look over her shoulder.

“See you at breakfast!”

* * *

Cassy had spent the night crammed into one of the eaves in the roof. It hadn’t been the most comfortable position to sleep in, but there had been precious mental solitude.  _ As if I need people around me anyway, screaming their thoughts at the tops of their mental voices. The sorrow’s bad enough, but the joy… it’s enough to swallow me whole. _ She sighed and opened her eyes. There weren’t many people up yet, but she could tell Dreya was awake.  _ I could feel her from miles away, now that she’s got that Medallion. _ The Quirlwing shivered. It was  _ not _ a pleasant feeling to be close to that particular object.  _ Like being trapped under glass, only with room to move. Not at all like the  _ Prolythe- oh, she shouldn’t have thought about that. _ Now I see why those things are illegal- they really mess with your mind. _ She had pulled herself free as soon as Anshi died, but it hadn’t been a proper release.  _ They were designed for a slow, easy relinquishing. You get yourself back gradually, not all at once.  _ Maybe if you got out that way, it didn’t affect you as much.  _ I’ll have to try it some time in the future. In the meantime… I need some breakfast. _

* * *

The pallbearers arrived shortly after Treyn finished dressing her daughter, carrying a bier of wood and canvas between them.

“We’re sorry if we’ve caught you unprepared,” their leader explained, “but the burial is to be done after breakfast, and we have to get into position early.”

“Where is she going to be?”

“We aren’t sure at the moment.” he said. “Normally we would take the body to the cemetery, but there is a chance the queen will set aside a place for the body.”

Treyn glanced over at her husband, who offered her a bowl of hot meal. “Do you think Dreya would do that?” she asked, taking the food. 

“I don’t know.” he said, grabbing a cloak from a hook by the door. “I’m going to find out. You get into position with the body.”

He was out of the house in a moment.

“Where is the body?” another pallbearer asked, this one a tall woman with almond-shaped eyes.

Treyn waved a hand in the direction of the stairs. “Upstairs. Turn right, it’s the door at the end of the hall.”

The four elves moved in unison, mounting the stairs softly.

“We won’t be long.” the woman promised. “You’ll still have time to dress.”

“Thank you.” Treyn said, swallowing a spoonful of meal.

“You’ll be accompanying the body, then?”

She nodded. “I want to be right beside her, right to the end.”

* * *

“Dreya?”

Cassy fluttered into the room, coming to rest on the back of an empty chair. “Could I eat with you?”

Dreya opened her mouth to reply, met Cassy’s eyes, and simply nodded. The Quirlwing slid down into her seat and reached for the nut dish.

“Cassy?” Melane asked, slicing into her omelette.

“Yes?” she answered, swallowing the nut she’d just popped into her mouth.

“I- I just want to apologize.”

“Good stars, what on earth for?”

Melane swallowed. “For- for treating you the way I did. When I thought Dreya- that she was gone.”

Cassy blinked. “Well, thank you, but frankly I’d forgotten that.”

“It’s just that… well, I never really properly made up for what I did. Throwing you out and branding you a murderer, I mean.”

“Again, thank you.” Cassy said. “Saela, no I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Oh!” the girl cried, drawing her hand up to her mouth and blushing. “I- I-”

Tamox put a reassuring hand on her arm. “You’ll get used to it.” he said. “She’s a telepath.”

The redness spread to Saela’s ears.

“And Cassy,” Tamox continued, “lay off.”

She nodded.

“Does everyone have something to wear for the funeral?” Dreya asked, changing the subject. “I mean, of course Cassy doesn’t need anything, but Tamox? Saela? Either of you need clothing?”

Tamox nodded. “I don’t have anything in black.”

“Neither do I.” Saela put in.

“Fine then.” Dreya said, taking a bite out of the sugared flatbread she held in her hand. “As soon as you’re finished, go outside and into the first building on your right. That’s the headquarters of the weavers’ guild. They should have funeral clothing available for today.”

“Oh- how’s my father?” Saela inquired.

Dreya’s mouth tugged up at the corner, almost looking like a smile. “I left him sleeping like a baby… in Tamox’s room, of course.”

* * *

Aora hadn’t eaten much, and she was finished long before most elves had even arisen for the day. “Now…” she said to herself, “…what to wear?”

She didn’t have much in her plain, utilitarian wardrobe. It was all black, so color didn’t pose an issue.  _ There’s got to be a gown of some sort in here somewhere… _ she thought, going through the clothing that was neatly piled in her back room.  _ No…? Wonderful. _

There wasn’t time to commission a new gown, so she decided to pick her most formal daywear. She pulled on a black shirt, her best sleeveless leather tunic, black leggings, and her good pair of black boots. A glance in the mirror, followed by a minor adjustment of her hair, finished off her preparations. 

“Well, Aora,” she said to herself, “might as well get on with your life, eh?”

* * *

Tamox raised his hand tentatively and knocked on the door. It opened almost instantly, with a very tall, very thin elf standing on the other side.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice bordering on disinterest.

“Well...” Tamox began, his gaze dropping. Saela rolled her eyes and elbowed him sharply. “Oh!” he cried. “We- we need mourning- that is to say, we need clothes for the funeral.”

“Mourning gear.” the tall elf answered, his eyebrows rising. “Thankfully, you’re the first to inquire.” Saela stepped up to enter the building, but the tall elf leaned out and blocked her way.

“You  _ will _ be paying for this, correct?” he asked. Tamox got the feeling that he would shut the door in their faces if the answer was “no”.

“The queen will cover any expenses.” Saela told him. “She directed us to come here.”

The elf’s expression became slightly less disdainful. “Very well. Step inside, please.”

He stepped aside and allowed Tamox and Saela to enter. They stepped into a huge hall.

“Come, this way!” the elf said.

It was dark inside the weavers’ guild headquarters, with enormous tapestries covering the bare rock walls. 

“Is… is there some sort of room with the clothing?” Saela almost whispered, her voice barely echoing in the stifling silence. 

“I will show you to a room.” their nameless guide intoned. “Please follow me and don’t touch anything.”

“How old are these tapestries?” Tamox asked. His familiarity with the mysterious cloth in front of the  _ Prolythe _ had piqued his interest into the subject. 

“Some are as many as ten thousand years old.” the elf said, not slacking in his pace. “Others are more recent. All are originals done by members of the guild.”

“All of them?” Saela asked, glad to have something to talk about. She noticed that they hadn’t seen any other elves in the building, and that their own guide was still withholding his own name.

The elf paused. “No.” he said, and pointed to one that hung on his left. “This one was crafted by an outsider.”

Tamox studied it, tilting his head to get a better look. In the background was an enormous tree, with others visible through its branches. In front of the tree was a rock, with what looked like a head sticking out from behind it.

“It’s a Xarn!” he said.

“What?” Saela asked, turning to him.

“Behind the rock.” Tamox said, pointing. “Look, it’s a Xarn, and he’s staring at that elf in the foreground.” The elf in the foreground was female, clad in a sleeveless, short-skirted green traveling dress with a bow on her back and a sword in her hand. Her back was turned to the viewers, but the tips of her ears were just visible poking through her long, loose black hair. 

“Tamox?” Saela said. “Um, I don’t think that’s a Xarn...”

He turned his eyes from the elf and focused harder on the head. He noted white hair, hazel eyes, and… two rather large felanoid ears.

“Agh!” he cried, jumping back.

“What is it?” Saela asked, her eyes wide with concern.

“It- it’s- that- that  _ head _ , it- it looks like- like me…”

“Um, I think it  _ is _ you.” Saela corrected. “And  _ she- _ ”Saela pointed to the elf- “looks like Dreya.”

“Or she  _ is  _ Dreya.” Tamox agreed.

Their guide laughed drily. “Fascinating, isn’t it?” he asked. “If I remember correctly, that was made by our last queen in her youth.”

“Mayara?” Tamox asked, still recovering from his scare regarding the tapestry.

Saela looked at him quizzically.

“She could see the future.” he whispered to her. “Melane told me.”

The guide chuckled. “Yes, Mayara. Her royal highness did quite a lot of tapestry work, as I recall. Said something about focusing her visions.” He paused. “We, of course, have all of her completed tapestries… except one.”

“Which one?” Saela asked, too intrigued by Mayara’s glimpses into the future to realize that Tamox was looking for the exit.

“Now that I do not know.” the elf said, turning away and continuing to walk on. “She worked on it in secret. None of the weavers ever saw more than a glimpse. I myself only learned its title.”

“Which was?” Saela pressed eagerly. Tamox lagged behind, still searching for an exit. The guild headquarters gave him an uneasy feeling.

“ _ Ni Perif Onen. _ ” the guide said.

“ _ What _ ?” Tamox cried, wheeling around.

“It means ‘To See Beyond.’” the elf explained without turning back. “Rather odd, isn’t it? Now, please follow me. We’re almost there.”

* * *

“Milady?” It was one of the palace guards.

“Yes?” Dreya asked, putting her conversation with Cassy on hold. 

“There’s someone here to speak with you. Aril Hitaro?”

Cassy raised a questioning eyebrow and tried to speak.

“Not now.” Melane whispered, motioning to Dreya with her hand.

Dreya rose, putting on her ‘business’ face. “Send him in.”

“Of course, milady. He will be up momentarily.”

Dreya gave her customary grimace at the honorific but said nothing.

“What do you suppose he wants?” Melane asked. 

“Perhaps to inquire about the funeral.” Cassy said, nibbling on a pan-fried mushroom.

“Ssh!” Dreya said, cutting them off with her hand. “He’s coming!”

Aril entered silently, giving a curt bow. “My queen.”

“Aril.” Dreya replied, sitting down. “Would you like some breakfast?” Her tone was light, but Aril could hear the undercurrent of grief.

“No, thank you.” he said, ignoring the opulent spread. “I’ve eaten.”

Dreya shrugged and leaned back in her chair, finishing off her flatbread. “What can I do for you?” 

Aril sighed. He hadn’t wanted to discuss this, but it was truly unavoidable.

“Where is Anshi going to be buried?”

Dreya’s hand wrenched up and she dropped her fork, her face contorting briefly with pain. “I… forgive me, Aril. That subject is still…  _ increasingly _ painful.”

Aril nodded. “I would have left it to you, but the pallbearers need to know.”

Dreya raised her head. There were tears in her eyes, and she fought to hold them back. Cassy was curled up in the seat of her chair, her eyes locked shut and her paws covering her ears, trying desperately to ignore Dreya’s projected grief.

“Do you wish to lay her with your family?” Dreya asked.

Aril paused. “We would be honored… but Treyn thought that perhaps…”

“…I had another plan for her remains?” Dreya guessed.

He nodded.

“Treyn would be correct, then.” she said. “I’ve crafted her a tomb in the Rulers’ Hall.” She let out a sigh and relaxed back in her chair.

Aril’s eyes widened. “Milady…”

Dreya’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, come now, Aril. Not you too.”

“But- but, Dreya, that’s- that’s… we’re honored!”

“It wasn’t for  _ you _ .” Dreya said, not caring about the rudeness in her tone. “You’ve been wonderful to me, but Anshi’s the one who really gave her all. The tomb’s for her. Her honor. Her sacrifice. Just her.”

Aril sighed. “But how can we thank you for-?”

“Don’t thank me.” Dreya said, her voice hovering between agony and anger. “It’s the least I can do.”

* * *

Sirold sat, his head in his hands. Kieral hadn’t awakened yet, her face peaceful but somehow not convincing, as if she were dead rather than simply asleep. The bandages on her neck and shoulder were stained with blood and salve, but at least the bleeding had stopped. She’d been transferred to the healers’ care after the return to Tralnrt, but for the past night she’d lain forgotten in a cot on the floor. 

_ Why don’t they do something? _ Sirold thought, anger flaring up at the perceived injustice.  _ Why don’t they  _ help her _?  _

The question hung in the air without an answer. Suddenly, Kieral stirred. A soft moan escaped her lips.

“Kieral?” Sirold cried, coming up to kneel beside his daughter. She moaned softly. 

“Kieral,” he continued, taking her icy hand in his, “please. Wake up. You can do this.”

The healers hadn’t told him what she’d been poisoned with. There hadn’t been time in the battle. He had no way of knowing if she was getting better or worse. All he could do was hope. 

In that moment, he wished that Elindra could have been there. Despite all the pain that their relationship had held, he wanted her to be there if their child died. 

Kieral relaxed, sinking back deep into the pillow. Her face was pale and her white hair spilled around her head like fine threads, and Sirold knew- she was dead.  _ No one can look that beautiful and still be alive. _

He bowed his head and let the tears flow, not noticing the growing pressure on his hand.

He wept openly, not seeing Kieral’s eyes slip open.

But he heard the sharp intake of breath, and he looked up, blinking through his tears to stare at those beautiful eyes.

And in that moment, he knew the worst was over.

* * *

The pallbearers were standing in the square, Treyn beside them, when Aril exited. 

“The ceremony begins in an hour.” he said. “She said she’ll sound the horn soon.” As if on cue, a somber note soared from one of the pinnacles of Lhiar. Treyn turned to see one of the guards holding a carved bone horn and sounding the call for a day of mourning. Another series of short blasts signified the minutes until the burial, now exactly an hour away.

“We’ll get into position.” the lead pallbearer said. “If you wish, you may return to your home and dress for the ceremony.”

Treyn shook her head. “I will remain with my daughter until she is laid to rest.”

“Speaking of that,” Aril cut in, “Dreya gave her a place in the Rulers’ Hall.”

Treyn gaped. “She- she gave her- you’re serious?”

“Yes. And she wouldn’t let me thank her.”

Treyn sighed and looked over at her daughter, clothed in the best finery the family could offer. “I wonder… is this going to be easy, or hard?”

“What, exactly? Putting her to rest?”

“No, accepting she’s gone.”

“I don’t think we’ll be able to tell until it happens. All we can do is live each day the best we can.”

* * *

“Tamox, what’s  _ wrong _ with you?” Saela asked, watching as he numbly slid in and out of suit after suit. She’d found a dress she liked, with a tight bodice, cap sleeves and a stiff ruffled skirt, but Tamox seemed unable to pick. “You’ve not spoken a word since we’ve been here!”

“ _ Ni Perif Onen… _ ” he murmured, dumbly pulling on yet another black shirt, this one loose and somewhat baggy.

“That one fits you.” Saela said. “I like the ties on the front.”

“She couldn’t have…” he muttered.

“Stop muttering and pick something!” Saela cried. “Oh, never mind. I’ll do it.” She hurried to the rack and pulled off a pair of tight-fitting pants and two formidable black boots.

“Here.” she said, thrusting them at him. “They match your shirt, now hurry up and get changed!” She turned her back as he slipped into the clothing she’d picked out.

“I… I’m done…” he announced weakly.

“Good. Now, what is going  _ on _ ?” the Xarn girl cried. “I want answers, and I want them now!”

Tamox took a few deep breaths. “Remember how we saved Dreya with the  _ Prolythe _ ?”

“Yes.” Saela said, frowning. “What’s that got to do with it?”

“Well, I found the door to the  _ Prolythe _ before you came. It was behind a tapestry.”

“And?” Saela pressed, not understanding.

“A tapestry depicting a battle between good and evil.”

“I’ve seen the hallways in there, Tamox, and they’re covered with tapestries! What’s your point?”

He gulped. “Well, there were words carved out on the  _ Prolythe _ \- and they meant ‘To See Beyond’.”

“Wait.” Saela interjected. “ ‘To See Beyond’? Isn’t that Queen Mayara’s-?”

“Yes.”

“So- so you think you’ve seen the tapestry?”

He nodded.

“And you think she told the future on that one too?”

“I don’t think, I  _ know _ .”

“Why?”

“Because she foretold Anshi’s death.”

“What? How?”

“I… I don’t know. And… oh,  _ flames. _ Mayara!”

Tamox stood, realizing suddenly that in the events of the past day he’d completely forgotten the imprisoned queen. 

_ I have to save her! Dreya’s in no position to do it, and Melane needs to be with her. So it’s up to me. _

He turned and ran for the door. 

“I’ll be back, Saela.” he promised. “I’ve got something important to do.”

She rose and darted after him. 

“Then I’m coming with you.”

* * *

Cassy straightened suddenly. She was alone in the breakfast room, but she heard Tamox coming. Her thoughts were neatly ordered, but very confused. Tamox was frantic to talk with her for some reason, his mind running in circles as usual. She relaxed and cleared her mind of the mental pressure. Sirold’s thoughts were especially potent, if only because he was joyful instead of sad.  _ I’m glad Kieral’s all right. _ she thought.  _ I’ll have to tell Saela. _

“Cassy!”

_ Oh, glorious. Here comes chaos. _

The room filled with confused and panic thoughts as he entered, clad in mourning gear.

“Yes, Tamox?” the Quirlwing asked. “What is it?”

“T - two things.”

“Well?”

“Mayara predicted Anshi’s death.”

“ _ What?! _ ” Cassy cried, leaning forward. “Explain this!”

Breathlessly, Tamox explained their visit to the somewhat disturbing weavers’ guild. He told her about seeing the tapestry depicting the meeting between him and Dreya, and about Mayara’s “secret” tapestry.

“And then he said it was called  _ Ni Perif Onen _ !” he finished breathlessly.

Cassy’s jaw dropped.

“And I thought about it, and I remembered that battle scene outside the  _ Prolythe _ room with the two leaders - ”

“On pillars!” Cassy cut in. “Oh, I should have  _ seen _ it! And then the dead figure with the rose-”

“The one that Anshi talked about!” Tamox cried. “Mayara- she knew all the time, and she left clues, and we still didn’t see it!”

“What are you talking about?”

The two friends turned to see Dreya, one hand on her hip.

“Dreya,” Cassy began, “we have something to tell you…”

* * *

Despite her position deep in the armory, Aora heard the funeral horn.  _ Well, guess that settles it. I have places to be. _ She looked forward to the funeral- it was a welcome distraction from her memories of Cesla.  _ She’ll always be Cesla to me, even if she left that name behind her.  _

She fastened her sword-belt around her waist and checked to make sure her blade was clean of Myrl remains.  _ Might have missed a spot yesterday… flames know, I was upset. _

She began her morning drill, mentally tallying the minutes until Anshi’s funeral.  _ I can run through sword skills once, and then the body exercises. _ She glanced over at her silverbolt, propped up against the wall. _ I was going to give it a drill, but it just takes time. Which is something I don’t have a lot of. _

Her thoughts flew back to her sister as she remembered the elaborate drills they’d crafted together.  _ I wish you hadn’t turned, my sister. So many things would be different. _

_ No, not different- better. _

* * *

“You’re serious?” Dreya moaned, sinking her head into her hands.

“I’m afraid so.” Cassy said. “There’s no doubt.”

“Well- it could be a different tapestry.” Tamox said. “But the likelihood of that is small.”

“Very small.” Dreya agreed, and she began to cry again. Cassy flinched.

“Please, Dreya, don’t do that.” she said.

“What?” Dreya growled. “Cry?”

Cassy shook her head. “Project like that. You’re making my head hurt.”

“Oh.” Dreya said. “I’m sorry, it’s not easy to stop it.”

“I know.” Cassy said. “I’ll do my best to ignore it, but could you at least try not to scream?”

Dreya moaned. “Why can’t I scream?  _ I could have saved her! _ ”

“No!” Saela cried. 

Dreya glared at her. “ _ What? _ ”

“No, you couldn’t have saved her.” the Xarn said. “She would have done exactly the same thing if she knew what was coming.”

Dreya’s hand crept to the Medallion and her fist clenched around it. She slumped forward. “You’re right.” she muttered. “It wouldn’t have made any difference.”

Saela nodded, her eyes dimming. Tamox put his hand on her arm.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

Saela sniffled, a tear slipping down her tan cheek. “My mother… it was that way with her.”

Tamox put his arm around her. “What do you mean?”

“Sh-she knew the M-Myrl were coming, b-but she w-wouldn’t run.” Saela gasped, trembling as she cried. “She-she said t-to run and she- she’d hold them- hold them off.” Her eyes closed and tears poured out. “F-Father said th-that we-we wouldn’t l-leave her, t-that she- she’d d-die. A-and she looked him straight i-in the face and s-said ‘I’m n-not a-afraid.’” Saela finished with a moan and buried her face in Tamox’s shoulder. He put his other arm around her and closed his own eyes. Cassy could feel the stress in his mind, trying to be strong but wanting to cry with her.

“Hey!” cried a voice from the door.

It was Keplan, and he was glaring at Tamox. “Let go of my daughter!”

“Shut your mouth!” Cassy cried. She drew herself up to her full height and glared at Keplan. “He’s only doing what you won’t!”

“And that is?”

“Comforting your own daughter! If it’s beneath you, at least let someone who cares about her do it!”

“ _ Someone who cares? _ ” Keplan repeated, dumbstruck. “Why, you-!”

“STOP IT!” Dreya screamed. She rose from the table, looking from Cassy to Keplan. “Stop fighting. I won’t have it! Not today.”

“Dreya?” Melane stepped into the room. “I need to borrow you for a moment. I’m sorry!”

Dreya rolled her eyes. “You!” she said, pointing to Keplan and an empty chair. “Sit down and keep your mouth shut. Cassy…” she shrugged, “at least don’t kill him.” 

With a final parting glare, she left the room.

Tamox ran after her, thinking fast about how to save Mayara.

“Dreya!” he called. “Wait!”

The girl whirled to face him. 

“Tamox, what do you want?”

He opened his mouth and spoke before he thought.

“This is going to sound wrong, I know, and you’ll probably say no, but I need the Medallion.”

The silence told him just how well Dreya took that idea.

“Please.” he begged. “I… I can’t explain now, but I need it. I promise I’ll give it back, I just need it for a moment.”

Dreya’s eyes were full of pain.

“If I could,” she said, “I’d give it to you regardless.”

She took the Medallion from around her neck and passed it to her friend.

“It killed my friend and my family.” she told him. “But make sure to return it when you’re done.”

Tamox nodded, taking it in his hand, and dashed back to his room.

* * *

Kieral was sitting up, Sirold holding a bowlful of broth.

“Drink this.” he said, lifting the bowl to her lips. She drank and swallowed.

“Are you comfortable?” Sirold asked. Kieral opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her faint smile faded away as she tried again, this time producing a faint croak.

“What’s wrong?” Sirold asked, leaning closer. “Can you speak?” 

Kieral tried once more, but finally shook her head. Her face contorted in frustration, and then she drew up her hand and began “writing” in the air. It took a few tries, but eventually she spelled out her message.

_ Did we win? _

Sirold smiled. “Yes.”

Kieral’s face took on a grin so wide it looked as if it would split her skin.

_ I knew we would.  _ she spelled.

Sirold smiled himself. “Saela fought for you.”

_ Really? I’d like to see her. _

“I’ll see what I can do. There’s a funeral later, and if you feel up to it, I’ll take you down.”

_ A funeral? Who died? _

“Dreya’s friend, Anshi.”

Kieral’s smile faded a bit.  _ I’m sorry. She was so nice. _

“I know.” Sirold sighed, feeding his daughter more of the broth. “I know.”

* * *

“But I don’t  _ want _ to wear the crown!”

Melane sighed. “Honestly, Dreya. Be mature. Sometimes I think you’re nothing more than a child masquerading as a queen.”

“I can’t help it if I don’t want to wear the blasted crown!”

Melane proffered the crown in question. “It’s your first time, so on with it!”

Dreya glared and folded her arms. “No.” 

“Andreya Orifax, you behave yourself  _ right now _ !” Melane cried. “I’m not frightened of you, and you  _ are _ wearing this crown!”

The glow subsided. “Fine.” Dreya grumbled. “But you can’t make me like it!”

* * *

The main square, once devoid of life, was slowly growing more and more crowded. People crept from their homes, silent in their vigil for the dead. Treyn and Aril stood in the center of the square, flanking Anshi and the pallbearers. 

“Dreya should be here any minute.” Aril whispered. “Just wait a little longer.”

Treyn nodded. “Of course.”

A few conversations broke out in the crowd, only to be interrupted when the main doors to Lhiar opened. The royal procession was straightforward- Dreya in front with Melane slightly behind and to her left, Saela with Cassy on her shoulders following afterward. Lastly, Keplan walked behind his daughter, his eyes never leaving her.

“We come here today,” Dreya began, using the Medallion to project her voice, “to honor a fallen warrior. She was a staunch commander, a fierce fighter, an unquenchable optimist… and a good friend.” Dreya’s voice broke in a sob. “I give you Anshi Hitaro.”

There was no applause, but every single elf in the square bowed their heads in a moment of silence. “To Anshi.” Cassy murmured, her wings folded in respectfully.

Dreya came to stand in front of the bier, her back to the dead. She looked out over the square, mentally plotting her route to the Rulers’ Hall. Closing her eyes against a flood of tears, she began to move.

* * *

Aora had slipped into the crowds just ahead of Dreya, and she watched as the procession began to move out.  _ They aren’t going to the cemetery… Dreya must have placed her in the Rulers’ Hall.  _ Not everyone would come, of course- just the family and close friends. The others would wait in the square until the return of the funeral party proper.  _ Might as well find someone to talk to- oh, I’ll see how Saela’s doing. I hope she didn’t take this too hard… _

* * *

Tamox sat on the bed in his room, focused on the Medallion in his hands.

“I know, I’m not Dreya.” he said. “But please, please work for me. I’m trying to save her mother!”

Nothing.

“Cassy said something about opening her mind once, maybe that will work.” he muttered to himself, doing his best to let down all guards. At first there was only silence, and then the inside of his head exploded outward with an almost-audible  _ whoosh _ . The Medallion gleamed as it merged with his consciousness, and suddenly Tamox could see everything. It was as if he stood above a map of existence, and the connections between it all were drawn in red.

“Take me to Mayara.” he commanded, and it was  _ done _ . He stood before her, and she was aware of him.

“Just kill me, you pathetic coward.” she intoned, not even looking up. “I can sense you’re back, you must have killed her.”

Tamox smirked.  _ She thinks I’m Kespa _ .

“Don’t be so sure.” he said. He reached out to the Medallion with his thoughts again, commanding the shackles holding Mayara to release her. Seizing her gently in a mental grasp, he readied himself for the return.

“I want to go back to Tralnrt.” he said. With a  _ crack _ the grey walls vanished, and suddenly they were in his room again. Mayara was no longer in his grip, and she fell to the floor with a cry. Tamox leapt up and ran to her, supporting her skeletal frame.

“T - Tamox?” she whispered. He guessed that the voice he had heard had been another illusion - this Mayara looked frail enough to snap in two with his own hands.

“I’m here.” he said. “You’re in Tralnrt. You’re safe.”

“And… and Dreya?” she asked.

He smiled. “She’s safe. Kespa’s dead, your Majesty. We’ve won.”

The queen smiled. “Forgive me for being so weak, but I was hanging by my elbows for centuries. If you could help me stand up?”

The Medallion tugged at the corner of Tamox’s mind. He turned his thought to it, letting it reveal new knowledge to him. Eyes on the queen, he issued a final command.

“Heal her.”

Energy flowed from the Medallion, surrounding Mayara and lifting her to her feet. For a moment she was completely swathed in the light, and then it entered into her body. When the last of it had been absorbed, the former queen stood on her own, her body restored to what it must have been when she was first captured. Only the scars betrayed the fact that she had been imprisoned at all.

“Now, Tamox,” she said, “may I see my daughter?”

“In a moment.” he replied. “Return to Dreya.”

The Medallion vanished from his hand as if it had never been there.

“Let’s go.” he said, and together they left for the plaza.

* * *

“Aora! Hello!” Saela cried, glad to be free of her father for a moment. He’d been pestering her ever since Cassy left with the funeral party. “How are you?”

“As well as can be expected.” Aora said. Saela noticed she had a rose in one hand.

“For Anshi?” she asked, gesturing to the flower.

Aora shook her head. “My sister.”

“Oh, did she die in the battle?”

“You might say that.”

“Saela!” 

The Xarn girl turned her head. It was Sirold.

“Your majesty!” she cried, immediately dropping into a deep bow. “How do you fare?”

Sirold wore a small smile. “Better than I hoped.” he said. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Saela raised her head and gave a squeal of surprise. “Kieral! You’re awake!”

The Xarn princess was paler than normal, and she kept one hand securely on her father’s arm. She smiled when Saela saw her, but did not speak.

“How long have you been up?” Saela asked.

Kieral moved her hand to spell in the air.  _ Just a few minutes. _ She trembled slightly under the blanket that was wrapped around her.

Saela frowned. “Can you talk?”

Kieral shook her head.

“Why not?”

“It’s the poison.” Sirold cut in. “The healers say there’s a chance she might be mute forever.”

Saela gasped. “I… I’m sorry, Kieral.”

_ That’s okay. _ the princess spelled.  _ I’ll manage somehow. _

Saela smiled. “Guess what happened? Tamox kissed me!”

Kieral’s jaw dropped and she frantically began spelling.  _ STARS! What was it like? Are you going to court? Do you think he wants to marry you? _

Saela laughed. “Well, I’ll tell you all about it…”

* * *

The funeral procession was swift and silent. The somber party slipped into the caves outside Tralnrt, now lit with the dawn sun. Dreya led them up the spiral staircase, drawing ever closer to the Rulers’ Hall with each step.  _ Oh no!  _ she realized.  _ I don’t have a rose! _ She panicked, but didn’t dare turn back.  _ Okay, how to get a rose… I could borrow one from Treyn or Aril - what?  _ A cold and unexpected weight had suddenly come to rest about her neck. She glanced down - the Medallion.  _ So whatever Tamox needed to do has been done. That still doesn’t solve my rose problem - oh, Andreya, you fool, you’ve got the Medallion! _ It was only a thought, but that was enough. A single fresh rose materialized in her hand.  _ Hmm… maybe this thing’s worth something after all… _

She rounded the final turn and stepped into the torchlit space, the flames enchanted to burn forever. She stepped back to make room for the others, and then sighed and turned to Anshi’s coffin.  _ I can’t believe I really have to say goodbye… _

_ *It’s not forever, you know. _ *

Dreya was startled.  _ What? _ she thought.  _ Who’s there? _

_ *Cassy. And I meant what I said.* _

_ Cassy? How are you talking to me? _

_ *Simple, really. We can communicate now that you’ve got that thing.* _

_ What do you mean, it’s not forever? _

_ *I know what happens to Orifaxes. They die defending their people, their lives a final barrier between normal elves and danger. You’ve been thinking about that, thinking it should have been you.* _

_ And the problem with that is…? _

_ *That your time is yet to come. You have to _ live _ , Dreya. You’ve got duties and promises to attend to. And you’ve got a whole civilization dependent on your survival, at least until you have a child.* _

_ I don’t want to have a-! _

_ *The point, Dreya, is that you are going to die. Just not yet. Maybe you’ll see your death- you’ve got some Foresight in you somewhere, I can feel it. I don’t know. But you’ll die, and when you die, maybe you’ll see her again.* _

Dreya bowed her head in silence.  _ Maybe, Cassy. Maybe. _ She looked at the grave and nodded to the pallbearers. They moved forward, bearing Anshi’s body on the bier. Slowly, they lay her to rest in the stone, the bier providing her only cushion. 

“She is at rest.” the leader said, turning to face the six onlookers. “You may say farewell.” They turned and left, their work done.

Treyn was first. She knelt by the open grave, her hands clasped together. She said nothing, but closed her eyes and wept. After a few moments, she stood and moved to the stairs, descending slowly.

Aril was next. He took his daughter’s hand and spoke in a slow, cracking voice.

“I lost you once, my child.” he said. “You were dead to me, and I could not even mourn you. Then you returned to me as if by a miracle, and I was joyful for a moment.” He coughed and sighed, tears streaming across his face. “Anshi, you brought me so much happiness in your life. My… my only hope for you is that you… you’ll bring that light to wherever you might be.” He pressed her hand to his forehead and let it drop, standing and exiting after Treyn.

Cassy came after him; she hovered above the body and was silent for a moment. 

“Daughter of Aril and Treyn,” she began, “I knew you not. I heard of you, watched you, talked with you- but I did not know you. I mourn your death, and hope that somehow, you are happy. Farewell.” She left as quickly as she’d come, with a final glance to Dreya as her parting gift.

Melane knelt by Anshi’s head. “Anshi,” she said, “it was nice knowing you. I’ll miss you. Goodbye.” She stifled a sob and left quickly, leaving Dreya alone with her friend. 

Dreya, in turn, sighed. “Anshi…” she began, and then sighed. “I just can’t believe you’re gone. I guess I was foolish, thinking you’d be around forever, but I  _ wanted _ to believe it. I’ve lost so much…” she shrugged, “it just seemed natural that nothing would ever happen to you. Nothing bad, anyway.” she added as an afterthought, and then she started to cry.

“Oh, flames, Anshi, what am I going to do? You’re my sister and my best friend. I’ll take care of Treyn and Aril, but they aren’t  _ you. _ ” She shook her head, growing more and more upset with each word.

“Why did you do it, Anshi? Why did you take my place?” she moaned, leaning against the wall. “It’s my place to die for my people, not yours. You have a family, a life… I could have left a much smaller hole.” She cried for a few moments before continuing. 

“Maybe it’s not about the result. Maybe I should be focusing on our good times, our memories. And I succeeded, after all. I have the Medallion back, we’re going to survive. And maybe Cassy’s right, that we’ll see each other again.” She laughed. “Well, if that’s the case, than this is only goodbye for now.” She walked over and placed her rose on Anshi’s chest. Mentally, she commanded a lump of rock to stretch over the opening. 

“And if it’s only goodbye for now,” she finished, “that makes this a whole lot easier.”

* * *

Melane entered the once-somber square and found it abuzz with activity. She couldn’t understand - just minutes ago, the whole city had been grieving for the fallen. Now, it was almost as if it was a normal day.

“What’s going on?” she asked the nearest elf.

“I’m not sure.” came the answer. “Some people came down from Lhiar, and now it’s as if the queen returned again.”

Melane considered this. If the people of Tralnrt were as excited about this as they had been about Dreya’s reappearance, it had to be important. But what could - ?

_ Fates, it can’t be. _

The librarian suddenly started pushing her way through the crowds, elbowing through wave after wave of elves like a ship through the sea.

“Tamox!” she cried, suspecting he was at the center of this. “Tamox!”

And then she was through the last ring and in the center of the madness, with Aora and Kieral and Saela and Tamox and…

… and  _ Mayara _ .

Melane stood motionless for a moment, remembering that moment when she realized Dreya was alive. She had felt joy then, but this was infinitely greater.

Mayara was looking at her, and suddenly she smiled. They both broke the silence then, rushing toward each other with cries of joy.

“Mel!”

“Ara!”

The two friends fell into each others’ arms, each crying and laughing and trying to inhale. For a long time it was just that, with only their ragged breathing to prove that this was real and not some cruel dream. Finally, Melane stood and beamed at her friend.

“Welcome home.” she said.

Mayara returned the smile.

“Yes.” she said. “I’m… I’m back.”

* * *

Dreya sat by Anshi’s grave for a long time, not yet willing to return to the world.

“If I wanted,” she said, “I could stay here forever. I’ve got the Medallion, it’s everything I need.”

She imagined Anshi answering with a laugh.  _ “Yes. And we could sit up here and be queens of the dead. Wouldn’t that be lovely _ ?”

With a sigh, Dreya stood.

“This thing won’t bring back the dead, Anshi.” she said. “But I’m beginning to realize that it doesn’t have to. You’ll always be with me, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

The sound startled the girl, and she stiffened. The voice sounded familiar somehow, but she couldn’t place it.

“If you’re a ghost,” she said, “I mean you no harm. I’ve been here often enough.”

“Well, if I am a ghost,” said the voice, “then we both have more problems then I realized.”

Dreya turned around, expecting to see some specter from her past ancestors. 

What she saw was her mother.

Her mouth fell open in a gasp as she reeled from the sight.  _ Not now, not now. I’ve felt the pain too many times. _

The ghost smiled and shook her head.

“I know what you’re thinking, love.” she said. “And you’re wrong.”

There was only silence as, for the first and last time in her life, Andreya Orifax fainted dead away.


	16. Epilogue

“Come on, push!”

“You say that one more time and I’ll snap your neck in half!” Saela screamed, her eyes on fire. “I’m  _ trying _ , but this isn’t exactly a small object!”

“Come on, Saela, you can do it!” Tamox encouraged. “You did it once, you can do it again!”

“SHUT UP!” she screamed. “You think this is easy, you shove this baby out!” Her face contracted with pain, and she screamed.

“Calm.” Cassy instructed. She’d grown up in the twenty years since the second Myrl War, and her wings now stretched at least five feet across. “Breathe in… now out. Again… that’s good. Stay focused on your center. And I’ll thank you kindly to watch your language. Just because it’s in your head doesn’t mean some of us can’t hear it.”

“Mommy? What’s going on?” A small head poked through the door- a child of about three. 

“Oh,” Saela gasped, “Safron, Mommy’s busy right now.”

“Busy?” the boy asked. He had his mother’s eyes, but two tiny felanoid ears poked up through his mess of white hair. “How?”

“Safron!” It was Dreya, clad in a loose white shirt and black leggings. “Get back here!” She snatched him up playfully, then saw Saela. “Sorry, Saela. I couldn’t keep him away.”

“It’s… fine…” she gasped in between pushes. “He has a right to curiosity.”

“Just like his dad.” Dreya agreed, tickling Safron under the chin. “Come on, now, you scamp. Back to the playroom.”

“But Aunt Dreya, I don’ wanna go!” Safron’s protestations were heard all the way down the hall.

Tamox chuckled. He had aged since the war, but his face was virtually the same. “We had a feisty one, didn’t we?” he asked.

Saela nodded. “Let’s… see… how… this one… turns out!” She groaned and relaxed, her face sweaty.

“Twelve… hours…” she whispered. “You’d think… it’s almost… here…”

“You’re relaxing?” Tamox cried. “Oh no, remember what that-!” He was cut off by a scream from his wife. He grabbed her hand and held it tightly.

“Come on, you can do it!” he cried. She screamed again, unable to speak.

“It’s coming!” Cassy cried. “Push, Saela! Push!”

The Xarn woman screamed and stiffened, her face contorted with pain. 

“Come on!” Tamox cried, grabbing a cloth. “One more, Saela! That’s it! One more!”

Saela grimaced and tightened for a final effort, and then the air was split by a piercing wail. Tamox was suddenly holding a very wet, very slimy, and very loud newborn. He smiled and began cleaning it off.

“It’s a girl!” he exclaimed. “We have a girl!”

Saela grinned and stretched out her arms. He handed over the baby, now wrapped in a fresh cloth.

“Does Dreya know?” he asked Cassy. The Quirlwing closed her eyes and nodded. 

“I just told her.”

“Great.”

Footsteps became audible outside. “It’s here? Where? Let me see!” Dreya burst into the room, followed by a very excited Safron. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Girl.” Tamox announced. 

“What is it?” Safron asked. 

“It’s your baby sister.” he said. “Want to see?” 

Saffron nodded and extended his hands. Tamox lifted him and showed him the girl, who possessed her own pair of cat ears, though they were much bigger than Saffron’s.

“Watcha gonna call ‘er?” he asked.

Dreya laughed. “That’s a good question, Safron. What are they going to call her?”

Saela thought for a moment, and then locked eyes with Dreya.

“Anshi.” she said. “I want to call her Anshi.”

Dreya stepped back, her jaw hanging open. “Saela… I… I don’t know what to say.”

Saela smiled. “It suits her.” she said, glancing to her daughter, now asleep against her shoulder. “And, it’s not taken.”

Dreya smiled. “I’ll go tell Treyn. She’s out with the workers.” She moved to a window, surveying her surroundings. Below her, elves of all ages worked to rebuild and restore the city of Norigoth.

“You know,” Tamox said, “I still don’t know why they only let you use the Medallion on the palace.”

“That was a joint decision.” Dreya said. “The people wanted a city they could take pride in, and part of that pride comes from knowing they rebuilt it. And, it takes a lot of energy to build something. This palace alone nearly knocked me out.” She looked out over the city and felt a swell of pride herself. All around her, her people were proving they could overcome any obstacle.

“Oh - could I get Kieral?” Cassy asked. Dreya raised an eyebrow. 

“What?”

“She’ll want to see the baby. After all, she is the submother.” Cassy explained. “It’ll be quick. Just send me to her, I’ll explain, and then you’ll bring us back.” 

“Fine.” Dreya agreed, and Cassy vanished with a  _ crack _ .

Tamox winced. “Any way of making that quieter?”

“I’ve been talking with Melane, trying to find out if any of the books from the library have advice, but I don’t think that she’s had any luck.” Dreya had retrieved the Norigoth library and destroyed Kespa’s fortress shortly after Anshi’s death, and Melane had only now just gotten it organized. “I’m stuck with the boom. Oh - Cassy wants back.” 

Saela, Tamox, and Safron covered their ears. There was another  _ crack _ , and Cassy and Kieral were in the room. The noise, unfortunately, set baby Anshi to crying.

_ Oh, she’s beautiful! _ Kieral spelled.  _ May I hold her? _

“Be my guest.” Saela said, and she handed the girl to Kieral.

“Will I be Aunt Dreya to this one too?” Dreya asked.

“If it’s not too much trouble.” Tamox said. “You can practice for when you have your own.”

Dreya punched him in the arm.

“Ow!” he cried. “I was only joking!”

“Well, don’t joke about that, it’s- oh,  _ no, _ Aora’s going to try another of her devices!”

Tamox and Dreya rushed to the window. 

“There!” Dreya said, pointing.

“Is she crazy?” Tamox asked. “There are easier ways to build things!”

“Like?” Dreya asked.

“Asking you.”

“Aora never was one to ask for help.”

The two friends waited, then a deafening explosion rocked the city. A cloud of dust rose from the decimated construction grounds, and several people were yelling at a black figure, presumably Aora.

“Why did she start designing those things again?” Tamox asked.

“She said a- oh, what’s the word- an ‘explosive’ would be helpful.” Dreya shook her head. “But that’s Aora, always taking the harder route.”

“At least Valeria gets along with her.”

“Yes, they’re rooming together, did you hear? It’s just for construction, of course, but who’d have thought  _ they’d _ be friends?”

“No one, I’m sure.” Tamox said. “Kieral, how’s your father?” 

_ Good. _ Kieral spelled.  _ Still living, at any rate. _

“Well, with him at that age, I wouldn’t call it living.” Saela said. Kieral laughed silently and turned to Dreya. 

_ Do you want her? _ she spelled with her free hand. 

“Yes.” Dreya said, taking Anshi and holding her. 

“Aunt Dreya, is she your nefoo too?” Safron asked. 

Dreya smiled. “No,  _ you’re _ my nephew.  _ She’s _ my niece.” 

“Is that like a nefoo?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“Pardon me, but I heard someone crying.”

Melane stuck her head through the door and grinned when she saw Saela.

“So it’s done, is it? Let me see the new arrival.”

Dreya extended her arms, baby Anshi calm now and happily studying the dark hair of her aunt.

“She’s got your ears, Tamox, at any rate.” Melane said, taking the girl and beaming at her. Behind them, Tamox and Saela burst out laughing at something Kieral must have spelled. Cassy fluttered over to examine the baby, taking her job as midwife very seriously.

“Her color’s good.” she commented. “And she’s breathing easily.”

“And why shouldn’t she be?”

The new voice brought a surge of power through the Medallion, letting Dreya identify the speaker instantly.

“Well, Mom, she might very well have gotten afterbirth caught in her throat.” she said, looking up to greet her mother.

“Like you did.” the former queen agreed, entering the room and going to Saela’s side.

“She’s resting.” Tamox said. 

“It was a hard birth.” Mayara answered. “She needs it.”

“Xarn births are always difficult.” he told her. “And the fact that, well, no one’s quite sure what I am doesn’t help matters.”

“Agreed.”

“I’m still awake, you know.” Saela commented from her bed.

Tamox put a hand on her shoulder. “Sleep.” he insisted. “Please.”

“I’m not an invalid, Tamox.”

“But I -  _ ow! _ ”

His sentence was interrupted by a swift punch to his elbow joint from his exhausted wife.

“What I  _ am _ ,” she finished, “is moody.”

“It’s not midcycle, is it?” Tamox questioned suddenly, backing away from the bedside.

Saela rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Tamox. I just had a  _ baby _ . Do you think that I’m going to bleed now?”

“But - but you said - ”

“Let me remind you.  _ I had a BABY _ .”

“Oh.”

Dreya chuckled, realizing in that moment how fortunate she was.

_ Anshi, _ she thought,  _ if only you could see this. If only you could be here. I’m finally at peace. _

_ I finally have a family. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's that. Damn, baby me had some wild ideas.


End file.
